Your Treasure Spent
by LizBee
Summary: AU. Aang won his battle, but Katara and Zuko lost theirs. While Aang and Mai grieve, Fire Lord Azula battles her own demons.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary**

Aang won his battle … but Zuko and Katara lost theirs.

With Azula controlling the Fire Nation, it seems like the war will never end. Aang and his friends return to Ba Sing Se to recover and mourn, while Mai escapes Azula and carries Zuko's dying message to Iroh.

For almost a year, the world holds its breath. The Fire Nation's resources are spent, and Azula, struggling with her own demons, realises that her father will never truly relinquish his power. In Ba Sing Se, Mai tries to come to terms with being alive when everyone she has ever cared about has died or abandoned her. Aang, without hope, travels the world, laying the dead to rest. Until the answer to his questions becomes clear: Azula has to die.

**Notes**

This was not an easy fic to write, not least because it turned out that the 5000 words of set-up I'd envisioned turned out to be the entire (nearly) 30,000 words of story. My eternal thanks go to my betas: Branwyn, for her work on the early drafts and plotting; CiderCupcakes, for her plot and character work; Weaver for the commentary and commas.

**Rated**

R, mostly for implicit violence and general darkness. A full list of warnings is below.

**Warnings**

Major character death; violence; underage arranged marriage; casual sex under the influence of alcohol; psychological abuse; mental illness.

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><p><strong>Your Treasure Spent<strong>  
>by LizBee<p>

Now, when your weapons are dulled, your ardor damped, your strength exhausted and your treasure spent, other chieftains will spring up to take advantage of your extremity. Then no man, however wise, will be able to avert the consequences that must ensue.

_The Art of War_, Sun Tzu

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><p><strong>The Spirit World<strong>

When the Moon Spirit heard what happened, she unleashed a tide of pain that shook the world.

"Dead!" she howled, and her rage and grief echoed through the realm of the spirits. "How? Why?"

"Mortals are always killing each other," said Wan Shi Tong. "In a thousand years, no one will remember her name, or why she died."

"I will remember," said the Moon Spirit.

In the Oasis of the North Pole, a freak tide caused the pool to overflow.

"Humans are prey," said Koh the Face Stealer. "Look at the way they treat their own kind."

"I was human," said the Moon Spirit, "before."

Koh the Face Stealer said nothing. His monkey's face smiled.

The Sun Spirit appeared before the Moon in his incarnation as fire. He was beautiful and alien, a brother to the Moon, but distant.

_My prince will die_, he said.

The spirits were countless in number, and only a tiny fraction knew of or cared about the doings of mortals. It was a long time since the Sun Spirit had spoken of the human realm at all. His name was long-forgotten, even by the people he claimed as his own.

"I'm sorry," said the Moon.

Behind the Sun came the Avatar, wearing the face of his previous incarnation. He bowed to the spirits.

"My great-granddaughter still lives," he said.

For a moment, the Sun Spirit burned blue.

"She should have been yours," Roku told him.

"Too late now," said Koh the Face Stealer.

"But she's alive," said Roku, "and living people can still change."

_She's lost to me_, said the Sun. _The damage is too great._

The Avatar's dragon wrapped itself around the Sun Spirit, who welcomed it as a child.

"It will take time," said the Avatar, "that's all."


	2. Chapter 2

**Aang**

Appa came back without them.

He found us on the edge of the Earth Kingdom, where the army had set up a camp to hold the Fire Lord and other prisoners of war. He appeared on the horizon a few hours after the end of my battle with Ozai.

"No," I said.

"What is it?" Toph asked.

"Appa," whispered Sokka.

Appa landed at my feet, grunting with pain. His fur was scorched, burnt to the skin in places, and he nuzzled against me with relief.

"I'm sorry, buddy," I said.

The man in his saddle was a stranger. A Fire Sage. He was dying.

"Don't move," I told him, climbing into the saddle. "We'll get help. Suki, go find a-"

"No," said the Sage. He took my arm. "My time is over. I'm ready."

"What happened?" I looked at his burns. "Who did this to you?"

Sokka hobbled over with water. The sage drank and said, "The princess. Fire Lord Azula." He drank more water. "Her brother fought her in an Agni Kai."

I didn't need to be told.

"He lost," I said.

"And my sister?" Sokka asked, leaning on his crutch.

"The girl. The Water Tribe girl. She didn't see the lightning."

Sokka sat back, his face bleak.

"I'm sorry," I told the sage, "I don't know how to heal you." I should have learnt. And I tried, desperately, mimicking the movements I'd seen Katara make a hundred times, but it was only water I was bending. I couldn't feel his chi.

"She might still be alive," said Sokka, as Suki returned with a doctor. "And Zuko. They're too valuable to kill, Azula knows that. They'll just be sent to prison, like Suki."

"No," I said. My head was still ringing from everything that had happened in the last day, the lion turtle, the fight, the feel of Ozai's soul in my hands. But I knew this, just like I knew how to bend air: Katara and Zuko were gone.

"Azula will probably send Katara to the Boiling Rock," Suki was saying. "We can take a war balloon-"

She broke off as Sokka lost his grip on his crutch, and, unbalanced by his broken leg, put his weight on her. He bit his lip, drawing blood, and buried his face in her shoulder.

"I can still fight," said Toph, but she looked exhausted, not much better than Sokka. She helped Suki lower him to the ground.

"I'm sorry," said the doctor, cradling the sage in his arms. "His burns..."

"You did your best," I said. I helped the doctor take the Fire Sage's body away. They cremated the dead in the Fire Nation. We put him with the rest of the Fire Nation casualties, wrapped in a blanket. I hoped one of the prisoners of war would be able to tell us his name.

My steps were heavy as I went back to find the others. Appa tentatively licked me. Momo tweaked my collar. Toph took my hand.

"I'm sorry," I said. I didn't know if I was apologising to Sokka, or Appa, or Katara and Zuko. I didn't know anything. I hardly felt anything at all, but there was no enlightenment, no emancipation, just an emptiness that I couldn't name.


	3. Chapter 3

**Mai**

I got smaller in the dark.

For the first few hours after we were arrested, Ty Lee and I shared a cell. Shackled, scared, hardly able to look at each other, but at least we were together.

Separating us was Azula's idea. Even if the deputy warden hadn't taken the time to tell us, we would have recognised Azula's work. No one knew her better than us, after all. Except maybe Zuko. Who'd have thought he'd be the first of us to escape?

She had ordered that we were to be imprisoned separately. Ty Lee, who loved people, was sent into the general prison population. I, who hated crowds and enjoyed my own company, was sent into the very lowest, darkest cells. Solitary confinement.

The deputy warden laughed as the guards took us away.

(I wondered: what happened to my uncle? No one would tell me then, and no one spoke to me now. He could be dead for all I knew.)

After the first few days, I lost track of time. The thick stone walls muffled all light and sound. Meals seemed to come at irregular times, dozens of breakfasts followed by something more substantial. If I stretched out my arms, I could touch both walls of my cell. I had a bed and a bucket, and I could take two steps before I ran out of space.

My own little kingdom.

I tried not to think about anything, but in the end, there was nothing to do but think. I thought about my family, what my parents must be thinking. About the sort of man Tom Tom would grow up to be, and if anyone would ever tell him he had a sister who was a traitor.

I thought about Ty Lee. I tried not to picture all the things she might be going through, because there was nothing I could do to help. Anyway, as she always told me, things were never as bad as I thought.

I tried not to think about Zuko, but there were times, maybe whole days, when it felt like I couldn't do anything else. If he had escaped - unlikely - and if he and the Avatar somehow managed to win the war - even less likely - I might one day be free. I wouldn't be able to marry, not after what I had done, but maybe I'd be allowed to go and live on my family's country estates. I could sit in the sun - I had never appreciated the sun before, not properly - and swim in the lake, and perhaps sometimes the Fire Lord could visit me, privately, when his duties permitted.

I thought that I could stand to be a concubine, if there was sunlight, and Zuko was alive.

My mother would no doubt prefer I stayed in my cell. The thought made me laugh, alone in the darkness. I thought, _I sound like a madwoman_, and laughed again.

Time passed. My hair got longer, but how fast did hair grow? My body's cycles were unreliable. It was always cold in my cell, and I seemed to sleep a lot. I dreamed of sunlight, and Zuko, our semi-legitimate children growing up and living lives of honourable service to his legal heirs.

They were nice dreams.

I was sleeping when they came for me. At first I thought it was another meal, and I sat up in my little bed, blinking as soldiers with torches stood in the doorway. The light made my eyes water. Two guards hauled me out of bed. They weren't gentle, but they didn't hurt me. One had painted her nails dark red. I had almost forgotten what colour looked like.

They led me towards the surface. To the execution grounds? I had expected Azula to linger over our punishment. But I'd misjudged her before.

We passed the execution grounds. My knees buckled. I was weak from inadequate food and exercise, that was all. It wasn't relief. Only weakness.

The guards all but carried me to the gondola. No one spoke. In silence, we journeyed across the boiling lake.

There was an airship waiting for us, not the ornate craft that Azula used, but a utilitarian troop carrier. I was escorted aboard and into a new cell. I didn't mind. I sat on the cot and rested my cheek against the metal walls, and marvelled at the way the steel reflected the light.

Eventually they brought me food. Bland prison mash, but a bland prison mash I had never tasted before. It was lovely. After I ate, I slept, and I didn't wake until the balloon landed. The guards accompanied me down the ramp. On the ground, a squadron of Imperial firebenders waited.

"The prisoner is yours," the most senior guard said, bowing. The leader of the Imperial firebenders offered a shallow bow in reply. He didn't deign to speak. He didn't even remove his helmet. The symbolic third eye shimmered in the light.

They led me through the city in silence.

It was sunset, and the sky was orange. The sun sat, swollen and grotesque, over the horizon. The air smelled of smoke. There were scorch marks on many of the buildings, but as we grew closer to the palace, intact buildings gave way to burned wrecks. I caught a glimpse of my family's home, nothing more than blackened stone walls.

It was the smoke and dust that made my eyes water. I never cried.

The air was clearer inside the palace, and the guards even stopped to give me some water. I drained the cup twice, but there was no point in putting it off forever. When the cup was empty a second time, I said, "All right. Take me to see her."

It was the first time I'd spoken in - well, since I had been arrested. Turned traitor. I was almost amazed at how normal my voice sounded.

The corridors seemed emptier than I remembered. I had practically grown up in the palace, getting in the way of servants and guards, ministers and lords. Now, the only people we passed were a trio of Dai Li agents.

"Thought they'd been banished," one of the guards muttered.

"Where would they go?" said another.

"Quiet," snapped the leader.

The doors to the throne room were closed. Before them waited another squad of Imperial firebenders. And with them, Ty Lee.

Her hair had been cropped short and there were shadows under her eyes, but she straightened when she saw me, and her smile lit up her whole face. If not for the shackles binding her hands and feet, and the guards surrounding her, I thought she might have hugged me.

There was no time for a joyous reunion, though, because the doors opened and we were led into the throne room.

The last time I had been in here, I'd just returned from Ba Sing Se to hear that my father had lost Omashu, and Zuko had turned traitor, and that the Fire Lord had expected me to account for it. Not because he thought I could give him answers, I had realised (pressing my face into the stone floor and praying that I'd say the right thing), but because I made a convenient target for his anger.

Maybe that was the moment I realised I didn't care anymore. I had always maintained a show of indifference, but deep down, I was as loyal as Ty Lee. Until the moment Azula's father made me beg for my life, punishing me for the twin crimes of being born to idiots and loving his son.

The throne room hadn't changed much since that day, except that there was a blue tinge to the flames that ringed the Fire Lord's dais, and it was Azula looking down at us. The guards pushed us to our knees, then left us, retreating to the shadows.

I couldn't see Azula's face. The flames between us twisted and danced, distorting her. All I could see clearly were the sharp curves of the Fire Lord's ceremonial hairpiece. Only the height and slimness of her figure identified her as Azula. Otherwise, it could have been the Sun Spirit himself up there.

"Traitors," she said, her voice rising over the crackle of the flames, "I have defeated my brother in an Agni Kai."

I kept my gaze steady. I wouldn't give her the satisfaction of letting her see a reaction.

"My father has been defeated and captured by the Avatar," she went on, "but I am his loyal daughter, and his saviour."

There was a tremble in her voice. Ty Lee heard it, too; I felt her stiffen. This was new, and where Azula was concerned, innovation never meant anything good.

She went on speaking, but I was listening to the sound of her voice, not her words. I knew Azula's voice as well as I knew my own mother's, and this - she hesitated where she should have charged, her enunciation too studied, her phrases artificial. I had seen her persuade the Dai Li to betray the Earth Kingdom, but this new Azula couldn't have sold ice to the Water Tribe.

She was almost pitiful.

Almost.

"At dawn," she was saying, "as a new era begins for the Fire Nation, we shall cleanse ourselves of treachery and put an end to the fear of betrayal that haunts us..."

She trailed off.

"Azula," said Ty Lee, half standing up, "are you all right?"

Azula gave an incoherent cry and threw a great tongue of fire at her. I was still on my knees, but I shifted my weight and threw myself against Ty Lee, knocking her out of the way.

"Take them away," Azula screamed at the guards. "Take them to my brother. Let them see what happens to people who defy me."

I thought we would be taken down to tiny cells that lay beneath the palace, where the very worst of the Fire Lord's prisoners were kept in ancient volcanic bunkers. Instead, the soldiers led us through the residential corridors of the palace, past the Fire Lord's rooms, to the chambers once occupied by Princess Ursa. We were almost pushed through the door, as if the guards didn't want to enter themselves. Then the doors were closed behind us, and locked, and we were left alone.

I had been in these chambers before, a long time ago. Princess Ursa's sitting room had been sunlit and pleasant, more comfortable than the grander rooms. Now they were dark and musty, with only a few torches for illumination. The air stank of burnt meat. The curtains were in tatters and the chairs and carpets were scorched. Scrolls and books lay everywhere, some burnt, others merely torn and crushed. A mirror had been shattered. And on the floor in the centre of the room lay Zuko.

He was on his side, breathing heavily. His skin was covered in scorch marks, the source of the meat smell that was turning my stomach. Part of his hair was burnt away.

I dropped to my knees at his side, reaching for him. I hesitated for a moment, worried about his raw, red skin. Then he opened his eyes and saw me. He smiled, his fingers finding mine, curling around my hand.

"I knew you'd come," he said, his voice cracked, his breath wheezing. "Told her she was afraid." He tried to laugh, though it was barely more than a puff of breath. "Guess I won."

"Water," I told Ty Lee.

There was a pitcher and cup on the other side of the room. Azula's keen eye for punishment again. Zuko was too weak to crawl, and she had left him with a heavy silver pitcher set up high on a table. But at least it did contain water. Ty Lee poured, and I helped him drink.

I had to hold the cup, he was shaking so badly. When he couldn't drink anymore, he collapsed into my lap, drawing deep, shuddering breaths.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I'm sorry." His hands were cold.

"Don't be stupid," I told him.

"No," he said, "I'm really sorry."

Haltingly, pausing every few words for more water, he told us about the Agni Kai.

"Azula broke the rules," he said. "Of course she broke the rules." Ty Lee gave him more water. "I wasn't fast enough. Lightning. Katara. Gone. Don't know. How long it's been. Since the Comet."

I looked blankly at Ty Lee.

"A week."

He blinked, and a tear dropped from his good eye. I watched it drip over his ear.

"My fault," he said. "Should have remembered. Azula always cheats." He shifted, awkwardly. I wished that I knew something about medicine. He was so cold. A firebender shouldn't be that cold. "She forgave me," he said.

Ty Lee frowned. "Azula?"

"Katara. She should have stayed angry. Then she wouldn't have come." He clutched at my arm. "You have to tell them," he said. "That I'm sorry. My fault."

I wanted to speak, but I had no words at all. I looked at Ty Lee, and she said, "No one blames you, Zuko. She knew what Azula could do, and she made her choice. Right?"

He sighed, but some of the tension seemed to leave his body.

We sat in silence for a long time, the three of us. Ty Lee put her head on my shoulder, her hand on Zuko's arm.

"My mother's alive," he said. "He told me. My father. Last time I saw him."

_And you believed him?_ I wanted to say, but I didn't, because there was a smile on his lips. In a few hours, it wouldn't matter what he believed.

"I would have liked to find her," he said. "I think. Maybe she'd be proud."

Anyone who wasn't proud to have Zuko for a son - I couldn't finish that thought. Not here. Not now.

"Listen," he said, shifting his weight. He patted the floor at his side, searching for something. "You need to tell my uncle. Tell Uncle he'll have to find someone else. And that I'm sorry." He pressed something small, hard and cold into my hand.

It was a pai sho tile, the kind from a set that was carved by hand for wealthy noblewomen, then handed down to their daughters and granddaughters. This was one of the old flower tiles, the kind that had been popular when my great-great grandmother was a girl. Useless, but exquisite, carved from jade and ivory. I showed it to Ty Lee, who shook her head, echoing my confusion.

"Zuko," I said, "we don't understand."

"It was my mother's," he said. "They'll get you out of here. They promised."

"Who promised, Zuko?"

"Tell Uncle," he repeated, and fell silent.

After a while, he began to shiver. Ty Lee found a blanket and wrapped it around him, but his hands were like ice, and nothing we did could warm him.

I missed the moment when he stopped breathing. Ty Lee buried her face in my shoulder, shaking with silent sobs, and I felt nothing, nothing at all. I put my arms around Ty Lee and rocked her until she stopped crying.

Eventually, I realised we were not alone.

It was few hours before dawn, still too dark to see their faces, but I recognised the silhouettes of Lo and Li.

"Come with us," Li said.

"If you want to live," said Lo.

Ty Lee looked up, wiping her face.

"You were banished," she said.

"The Fire Lord knows she needs us," said Li.

"We look after her," said Lo.

"But not Zuko," I said. My legs had gone to sleep, sitting so still with his body in my arms. I moved carefully, as if he were asleep, and covered his face with the blanket.

"We couldn't help Prince Zuko," said Li.

"But you can save us?" Ty Lee asked.

"Come with us."

It wasn't like we had anything left to lose.

The royal palace was riddled with passages. Some were used by servants or guards. Many were forgotten. We used to play hide and seek in them when we were kids, until Zuko got lost for three hours and Princess Ursa forbade the games. This passage ran from the princess's rooms to the chambers traditionally occupied by the second in line for the throne. They had sat empty since Ozai's ascension, but the faintest trace of his scent lingered in the still air. My skin crawled.

"What's going to happen to us?" I asked.

"A troop carrier leaves for Ba Sing Se in three hours," said Li, leading us into another passage.

"The Grand Lotus will be there," Lo added.

Princess Ursa's pai sho tile was still warm in my hand. I snuck a look at it. The white lotus tile. _Zuko...? _

He beyond the reach of my questions now. The answers lay in Ba Sing Se.

This passage was wide and brightly lit, lined with shelves and closets, and doors leading to larger storage areas. The back of my neck began to prickle. Dawn was only an hour away. There should have been servants down here. We were in the middle of the residential wing of the palace. We should not have been alone.

"What," I began, but the twins, speaking as one, cut me off.

"Quiet."

Ty Lee squeezed my hand.

We were heading west. Towards the army base. The war balloons. Freedom? I didn't think the Earth Kingdom would welcome us, so soon after we had helped Azula take Ba Sing Se. But the very worst punishment they could offer us was still better than Azula.

We turned a corner. Almost there. Then Ty Lee made a choking noise, moving into a fighting stance.

It took me a moment to see it: the figure of a man, leaning against the wall in the shadows. A soldier.

"He's dead," I said.

"It was necessary," said Li, or Lo, I didn't know. Or care. He was pinned to the wall by five throwing knives, and his throat had been slit.

The knives were the creation of the master craftswoman, Jin Re Sun. They were, if not my own actual knives, then identical in style and design.

Lo and Li watched me as I studied the blades, their faces unreadable.

Then they walked on, and after a moment, Ty Lee and I followed.

I had never killed. As far as I knew, I had never even caused a serious injury, although that had more to do with the skill of my opponents than any benevolence on my part. I didn't think I'd have a problem with death, but this had been butchery, and wasteful.

I squeezed my lotus tile and watched Li and Lo, and wished I had my knives.

The passage turned into a tunnel that ended in rough steps leading to a door that opened onto a little alley that ran between two army barracks.

"The second officer on the _Glory of the Comet_ will help you," said Li.

"If you're caught," said Lo, "we will kill you before you can betray us."

They vanished in a whisper of fabric, leaving us alone. The sun was rising. I took a deep breath, savouring the moment.

"Mai," said Ty Lee, "I can't go with you."

I opened my eyes.

"What?"

"The prisoners of war," she said, "I owe them my life. Now I have a chance to help them escape."

"Or to help them die," I snapped.

Ty Lee shook her head. "I have to try." She threw her arms around me. "You go to Ba Sing Se and tell General Iroh what happened. We'll follow." She gave me a bright, wide smile, just as she did the day before she ran away from us to join the circus. "Look for us. We'll follow you."

She vanished back into the tunnel, and I was alone.

The second officer on the war balloon was an older man named Jee. He provided me with papers and a uniform that proclaimed me an infantry private, non-bender. I had a bunk in a cabin with five other soldiers, standard-issue weapons and three meals a day.

The other women in my cabin hadn't been paid for two months. Three were still injured from the collision of two war balloons during Ozai's attempted razing of the Earth Kingdom. Our weapons were cheaply made and easily broken. And our rations ranged from slightly stale to almost rotten.

The military machine that had conquered the world was close to breaking. I wondered if Azula knew or cared.

It was a three-day journey to Ba Sing Se. I kept to myself, afraid that my ignorance and inexperience would give me away. The other soldiers assumed I was a new recruit, and teased me about joining too late for the fun part. I pretended to smile, and waited for them to get bored.

I didn't sleep much. I was afraid of letting my guard down, of giving myself away. I was afraid of dreaming.

Zuko was dead. I was alive.

I tried not to think about it.

To keep busy, I started gathering weapons. The engineering section was full of soldiers honing their tools. The standard military dagger was next to useless for throwing until I cut off the hilt and reshaped the blade. The spear head got the same treatment. After that, I began sharpening all the little metal objects that came into my hands: coins, a large earring, some nails, a pair of metal chopsticks. I had no material to fashion holsters or launchers, but there were lots of pockets beneath my armour. No one paid attention to me. Even the rawest recruits knew our assigned weapons were inadequate.

On the morning of the third day, I rose from a restless half-sleep and waited for the next move. After breakfast, Lieutenant Jee pulled me aside.

"You were a friend of the prince?" he asked.

"Something like that," I said.

"Tell General Iroh that a lot of people would stand with him. If he needed us."

I nodded.

"We'll be landing in a few hours. Just outside the inner wall."

"That's..."

"It's a diversion," he said. "The real assault will be in the city itself. The Fire Lord has sent an elite squad to rescue her father from the Earth Kingdom prison."

"And the infantry?"

"We're buying the Phoenix King's freedom with our lives." He looked grim. "I survived Zhao's attack on the Northern Water Tribe. I didn't think I'd end up dying here."

They were waiting for us when we landed. Ba Sing Se was defended by a motley army of Earth Kingdom soldiers and civilians, even a few Dai Li agents. They should have crumbled before the Fire Nation soldiers, but we were too tired and too poorly equipped to do more than struggle against the inevitable.

I kept my helmet down, trying to avoid trouble, looking for someone who might not kill me on sight. The ground was shaking as the earthbenders did their work. I had to fight to keep my balance. Then, in the chaos, I saw a familiar flash of green. The Kyoshi Warrior that Zuko and his Water Tribe friend had freed from the Boiling Rock.

Suki. That was her name. I had helped capture her. I hoped she remembered that I'd helped free her as well.

She looked tired, but she was fighting two men at once, wielding her fans with deadly grace. But she couldn't see the third man preparing to join the fight.

I threw one of my projectiles at the newcomer, and was rewarded with a scream as my improvised dart pierced his hand. At the same time, I shouted, "Suki!"

She took advantage of her opponents' distraction to finish them - disabled, I noted, not dead - then turned to me. I raised my helmet and threw it away.

"Mai?" she said, "...was that a chopstick?"

"This is just a diversion," I told her. "The special forces have been sent to rescue Ozai."

Her jaw set. For a second I thought she didn't believe me, then she nodded.

"Come on," she said. "Colonel Shi! We need to get reinforcements to the palace prison now!"

"What-"

"Hurry!"

She was running back towards the city, repeating my message to the Earth Kingdom colonel, to a Dai Li captain and to the little blind earthbender who had travelled with the Avatar. Toph scowled and, shifting her weight, opened a passage for us right through the inner wall. On the other side, Colonel Shi peeled away to send a signal, but Suki kept running.

"I've got a better idea," said the earthbender girl. She moved the ground itself beneath us, so that all we had to do was hang on and watch the city pass in a blur.

We were still too late. When we arrived at the prison, the walls were scorched. Four guards lay on the ground, arrows protruding from their bodies.

"Yu Yan arrows," I said.

"At this range, they didn't stand a chance." A general approached. I recognised him: he had been one of the Earth King's advisers, and had dealt with Azula in her Kyoshi Warrior disguise. How was his name. General How. He gave me a long look, as if he was trying to place my face. Or maybe he was just wondering why a Fire Nation soldier had delivered this warning.

Behind him, limping and using a crutch, was Sokka. The dead girl's brother. He looked gaunt, haunted. He recognised me right away, eyes widening in surprise as he took in my armour, the makeshift weapons still in my hands, my presence in the company of his friends.

"Where's the Avatar?" General How asked him.

"Another balloon landed at the east gate. He went to help take care of it."

The general made a noise like a grunt of disappointment or disapproval.

"He can't be everywhere at once," Sokka snapped.

The way to the cells was littered with bodies, scorched and slashed, and all dead. I was tired of seeing dead people. I was tired. Ozai was gone, on his way back to Azula.

"What can he do without his bending?" General How wondered.

Sokka, Suki and I exchanged a brief, wry glance. "Plenty," Sokka said.

"And how can we trust her?" How pointed at me. "She's Azula's ally. Last year, she helped the princess take the city."

"I was given this." I pulled the white lotus tile from my inner pocket, but How looked blank. Sokka, behind him, nodded, but said nothing.

The Earth Kingdom soldiers were surprisingly gentle as they led me away. I was stripped, my weapons confiscated, but they gave me clean clothes and even a meal of noodles and fresh vegetables before taking me to my new cell. This one had a high window that admitted a little light. The mattress was hard, but there was a warm blanket. It was a nice cell. I could see myself being very happy here. They had let me keep my pai sho tile, and I clutched it so hard my knuckles turned white. I curled up with my knees against my chest and fell into a heavy, dreamless sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Azula**

Maybe I was going mad.

I should have been happy. I had everything I wanted. Why wasn't I happy?

Something was wrong. With me, with the Fire Nation. The treasuries were empty, the troops were overstretched. It was as if, in declaring himself Phoenix King, Father had decided to gut the Fire Nation, leaving us nothing more than another conquered subject-nation.

With me as another conquered subject-queen.

Did he really think so little of me? This thought had been haunting me since Father left. I had even sunk so low as to ask Zuko.

He had turned to look at me - it was only two days after the Comet, and he was still strong enough to stand, if he made an effort - and said, "Maybe it's worse, being his favourite. You're just a weapon to him, Azula. Maybe if you can see that-"

Whatever wisdom he was about to impart - cobbled together, no doubt, from things Uncle had said in his lessons on treachery - were lost in his scream as I burned him again.

"Fire Lord."

I raised my eyes from the ledger. The servant bowed lower, as if hiding her face. Hiding from me.

"It's time, Fire Lord."

"Have the ministers summoned," I told her. "I'll see them next."

I went to watch them burn my brother's body.

I wore no mourning clothes, and the Sages - the only other people in attendance - were not foolish enough to don the white themselves. It was a short ceremony, befitting a servant rather than a prince. Just his name, and the names of his parents and ancestors. No titles. No achievements. His name alone would be added to the ancestor shrine within the Sages' temple. He would be quickly forgotten.

Goodbye, Zuzu.

"You think you're beyond forgiveness," said my mother. "You always did underestimate people."

I ignored her. We were alone at the pavilion, the Sages, Zuko and me. My mother was dead. Father had told me she was dead. Father had never lied to me.

I watched until Zuko was nothing but ash.

The ministers were assembled in the throne room. Some of the ministers. I had banished them, I recalled, in those hours when it had seemed as if reality itself had turned against me. I was much better now. Much. Better.

Some of the ministers had stayed, despite my orders, along with the Dai Li and Li and Lo. People who would do what they thought was good for me, not what I asked of them. Or maybe they thought they were serving a higher purpose.

On my throne, behind the wall of flames that rose and fell at my control, I realised they were wrong. Serving me was the highest purpose they could ever know. And if they forgot that - if they ever forgot-

"Tell me again," I said, "how the traitors escaped."

"The body of a soldier was found in the tunnels beneath the palace," said the Minister for Interior Security. "The evidence would suggest they were killed by the Lady Mai."

"Did I not order that all the exits from those chambers were to be sealed?" I kept my voice pleasant. "I'm sure I was very clear, Minister Lau."

"Fire Lord," he said, bowing lower, "there must have been an oversight. I beg forgiveness."

"The traitors went on to break key prisoners of war out of the Imperial Prison," I said. "I hope I'm not expected to forgive that, too."

"That," said Minister Lau awkwardly, "was a military undertaking."

Meaning that they had stolen military ordinance and escaped in an army war balloon. Excuses. "Have you found the bodies?" I asked.

"No, Fire Lord. My agents saw Lady Ty Lee fall, but they couldn't find her body. They searched the Lower Quarter most thoroughly, Fire Lord."

The Minister for the Capital scowled. No doubt his underlings were being plagued with complaints about heavy handed domestic security forces ransacking their shops and houses. But he said nothing.

"And Mai?" I asked.

"Nothing, Fire Lord. It's possible she escaped with the rest of the prisoners."

The wall of flames rose with my anger. For a moment, my pathetic ministers were concealed from view. There was a flicker of pink on the edge of my vision, an echo of Ty Lee's laughter. I ignored them.

"General Shin," I said, "at least tell me you made an attempt to chase the escapees."

"An attempt, Fire Lord," he said. "Our resources are stretched rather thin at present."

Was this a criticism of my plan to rescue Father? He wouldn't dare. I would happily lose a few barbarian prisoners if it meant releasing my father from the indignity of an Earth Kingdom prison. Surely they could all see that.

He was still talking - about paying the armed forces, about replacing people and equipment lost in in the attack on the Earth Kingdom. Many of the survivors from Father's forces were in prison camps on the other side of the ocean, and they were the lucky ones.

"Divert troops from the western colonies," I told General Shin.

He wanted to raise the taxes on the colonies as well, _and_ recruit new soldiers from the colonial youth. The Minister for Finance objected that this would leave the colonies unprotected and without workers to generate taxable income. Revolt, he hinted, would surely not be far behind. He always had been an alarmist.

I let the minister have his taxes, but extra troops would have to come from the Domestic Forces. Minister Lau looked unhappy, but said nothing.

Alone again at last, I retreated to the enormous office that lay behind the throne room. This had been Father's domain, and I had spent many hours in here, ostensibly doing school work, but actually watching him conduct the business of ruling the Fire Nation.

I was beginning to realise he had made it look easy.

I went back to the ledgers. The numbers produced the same result every time: bankruptcy. The colonial taxes would help, but they would be poured straight into the military, which seemed, from my new perspective, to consume money in exchange for more land that needed defending.

I wanted to set fire to all of it and start again from scratch. But Father had already tried that, and failed. I went over the numbers again.

Three days after my brother's funeral, I received a message that my father had been rescued and was on his way home. We had lost two troop carriers and infantry units, which - as General Shin pointed out - couldn't well be spared, but the sacrifice would be worth it.

On the day of Father's return, I dressed with extra care, having my hair pinned away from my forehead to conceal the burned and ragged edges. I put on my make-up with my own hands.

The reflection in the mirror looked older, perfectly in control. A Fire Lord my father could serve with honour and respect. When he made his bow to me, it would be as a warrior wounded in battle to his rightful leader, not as a father to his daughter. He left as the Phoenix King and would return as nothing, but surely he knew I'd be magnaminous.

With him as my advisor, I could rebuild the Fire Nation, recover our former glory and more.

I waited for him in the throne room.

I had feared that he would be somehow diminished by his experiences, that the theft of his bending would leave him physically marred. But as he approached, my father looked as he ever did, like the Sun Spirit himself come to life. He was dressed in military armour without rank insignia, and he looked as proud and powerful as any of the guards who accompanied him.

He strode to the centre of the throne room, leaving the guards behind. He stood before me, looking at me through the flames.

"My daughter," he said.

He did not bow.


	5. Chapter 5

**Mai**

In the end I only spent a day in my new cell. I was roused from my sleep by a guard and taken to bathe and dress. It was the first time I had seen a proper mirror - or a bath - in weeks. I scrubbed myself raw, revelling in the hot water. When I emerged, I found clean clothes waiting, in shades of green so dark as to be black. There was even embroidery on the sleeves and collars, not ornate, but of a high enough quality that no one would look at me twice if they passed me in the Upper Ring.

My new hairpins, I noted, were of good quality, enamelled with flower patterns, and above all, blunt. The wide, heavy sleeves of my outer gown contained pockets. I slipped my lotus tile into one, and wondered how many weapons I could conceal. If I was ever allowed to go armed again.

When I was ready, I took a deep breath and emerged from the bathroom.

Three men waited for me, looking incongruous in what was plainly an Earth Kingdom noble-woman's chambers. One had a shock of white hair and a scarred face. Beside him stood a slightly younger man, with dark skin, a neat beard and a hint of a smile in the corner of his mouth.

Beside him stood the King of Omashu.

I made a very deep bow and greeted him formally as the daughter of a provincial governor to an honoured subject-monarch.

He giggled.

His smile grew wider when I greeted Admiral Jeong Jeong. He had once been - not a friend of my father's, but a valuable political ally, until he deserted. It had taken a moment to recognise him with his hair worn loose like a barbarian.

The third man was Piandao, the swordsmaster, whom I knew by reputation. I had once hoped to study beneath him, before his dissident politics became common knowledge.

Feeling stupid, I said to Bumi, "Do I have the honour of addressing the Grand Lotus?"

King Bumi laughed again, Piandao grinned, and even Jeong Jeong looked amused.

"No," Piandao told me. "We were sent to confirm your identity. Among other things."

I held my hands out at my sides, and very gently, he checked my sleeves.

"Nothing?" said Bumi.

"The bathroom was almost bare," I told him, "and I didn't have time to sharpen the hairpins."

His smile was almost approving.

They led me through a labyrinth of corridors, to a bright, sunny room with a view that overlooked the whole city. One table held a tea pot and cups, and some late summer fruit. The other held a pai sho board.

In front of the window, his back to the door, stood General Iroh.

My throat closed up. I wasn't ready for this.

"The Lady Mai," said Jeong Jeong. The three men left, Piandao closing the door behind them, and I was alone with Zuko's uncle.

The last time I had seen General Iroh, he was being led from Azula's ship in chains. I hadn't want to look at him. I had been angry, in fact, that this was being done so openly, because I felt the way Zuko tensed when his uncle appeared, and I wanted Zuko to be happy. But we had all stopped and watched the General being taken away: a sad, defeated man who had lost everything and gained nothing.

Looking at him now - neatly dressed, free, respected - I thought he might look back at the chained prisoner he had been, and envy that man.

He looked old. Pale and puffy, his eyes dull and a little bloodshot. But he managed something like a smile as he turned.

He gestured at the pai sho board. "Do you play?"

"Not well."

Growing up, I had been the best player in our circle. Ty Lee was too flighty, Zuko was erratic, and Azula never saw the point of any game that didn't involve setting things on fire. But it had been a long time since I played, let alone against a master.

"Perhaps you will honour me with a game," he said, and helped me into my seat.

The first game, I lost.

I lost the second game too, but not as badly. The third game I almost won, until Iroh brought his white lotus tile into play.

"You did well," he said when my final defence collapsed. "Not many people appreciate the red chrysanthemum gambit."

"My grandmother taught me to play."

"She would be proud." The general made tea and offered me fruit. When I had eaten, and he had poured my second cup, he said, "Tell me about my nephew."

This was what I had been dreading.

"He died in my arms," I said. "Three days ago. No, four. Some time after midnight." I looked at my hands, clutching my cup, and tried to push my emotions to one side, as if I was speaking about something else. As if I was a stranger, narrating my life.

This was something else my grandmother had taught me.

"He was badly burned, but I think there must have been internal injuries as well. I didn't know. We couldn't do anything but give him water and keep him warm, and sit with him. He wanted me to tell you he was sorry. I don't know what for."

The general shook his head.

"Nothing," he said. "He had nothing to be ashamed of."

"He was very upset about the Water Tribe girl."

"Katara. Yes. Many people grieve for Katara."

"And he said you'd have to find someone else." I looked up at him, wondering what the message meant, but his gaze was distant, and there were tears in my eyes. I looked down again, trying to swallow my feelings.

"It isn't fair," I said. "He should have had a long, happy and boring life." For a second, I wanted to throw the tea cup across the room, just for the satisfaction of breaking something delicate.

Instead, I put it down, and put my hands in my lap. I could feel Iroh watching me now, and I forced my jaw to relax.

"You must have loved him very much," he said.

Like a child, I shrugged. "I trusted him."

He didn't press me.

"We've persuaded the Council of Five to give you your freedom," he said.

I should have been happy. I was happy. But the world outside that window seemed very large.

"Where will I go?" I asked.

Diffidently, the general said, "I have an apartment in the Upper Ring, with a spare room." Zuko's room, I thought. "My tea shop is back in business. I could use a new assistant."

I raised my eyebrows, both at the mental image of the Dragon of the West serving tea to Ba Sing Se's upper classes, and at the prospect of doing so myself.

He added, "I imagine your grandmother also taught you the tea ceremonies."

Along with calligraphy, music and the art of the shuriken. I nodded.

"Then you'll do well."

What else was there?

So my life fell into a sort of routine: I would sleep late into the mornings, then wander around the city for a couple of hours, before putting on an apron and serving tea from the afternoon to the evening. It was boring, but I found I liked that. Being bored meant that I wasn't afraid for my life, and there were moments, when I was busy, when I could forget about Zuko and everything else, and just exist. No one noticed serving girls. In my apron, I became invisible.

In the evenings, after the Jasmine Dragon closed, people would gather. I thought of them as Iroh's friends, though it was the Avatar around whom they all revolved. Even me, I suppose, without thinking about it. They came together to exchange news and make plans. To eat and drink in the company of friends. To grieve.

The Avatar stayed on the edge of these gatherings, resisting all attempts at drawing him into conversation. One evening, I saw him slipping outside. On impulse, I poured two fresh cups of tea and followed him.

"It's jasmine," I said, setting a cup down beside him.

"Thanks."

I sat down myself, a little way away, so he wouldn't feel like I was forcing him to be social. His bison, resting on the warm flagstones in front of me, rumbled softly. The lemur crawled onto my shoulder, making a nest in my hair and chittering. I'd never spent much time around animals, but I patted him cautiously.

"This is good," the Avatar said, sipping his tea.

"Iroh's a good teacher."

"That's what Zuko used to say." He broke off, giving me a sidelong glance to make sure I wasn't about to burst into tears. "He made tea for us most evenings."

I could imagine. When he spent the night at my house, that was the sort of thing he enjoyed. "Playing at families."

"Yeah." The Avatar's voice cracked, and he looked like he was about to start crying. "Except for the chores. He hated doing that stuff. We said, who doesn't? But that just made him complain more."

"Until I came here, I'd never done a chore in my life," I said.

"It must be tough for you," said the Avatar, and he didn't sound like he was talking about domestic chores. "It's like you've inherited his place."

"I'm not a firebender."

"That's not what I meant. Katara-"

He stopped, and now there were tears in his eyes. His fists clenched. I wanted to look away. I didn't.

I moved closer to him.

"The secret to not letting them see your feelings," I whispered, "is to relax. Just breathe and let it pass, like water over a stone."

My grandmother's advice worked. He breathed until he became calmer. His jaw relaxed. When I looked at him again, in the greenish light of the Earth Kingdom torches, his face was a mask.

"Water wears away stone," he said.

"It's all I have."

I finished my tea and went inside.

This routine lasted only a couple of weeks. Then the escapees started coming in, the prisoners Ty Lee had rescued. A trio of swamp-dwellers. A shortsighted man missing three fingers on his left hand. An elderly earthbender. Two enormous men who called themselves Pipsqueak and the Boulder. Water Tribe warriors.

They arrived in little groups. All knew Ty Lee. None could tell me if she was alive.

The last to arrive were the Kyoshi Warriors. I served them tea, then lingered.

"Ty Lee," I said. "Do you know-"

"She fell," said one warrior girl.

"No, she jumped," said another.

"Either way," said the first, "she never made it out of the capital. Maybe she thought she could do more good on the ground. I didn't see her land. I didn't see anything after she left." The Kyoshi Warrior looked apologetic beneath her face-paint. She even squeezed my hand. "Ty Lee was a good person," she said.

I couldn't sleep that night. My head was full of memories and grief. I got up to get a drink of water, and froze in the doorway of my room.

In the dim light of the new moon I could see Iroh, sitting lotus-style on a cushion. Around him, burning sticks of incense were arranged in a half-circle. His eyes were open, but he didn't see me.

He was very far away.

I went back into my room and slid the door shut behind me.

I had heard rumours, of course, of General Iroh's journey into the Spirit World after his son's death. The stories had kept Azula amused for months, and she had encouraged us to find the most disrespectful and absurd variations.

It had never once occurred to me that the stories might have been true.

The unfamiliar smell of the incense worked its way into my room. I lay on my sleeping mat and tried not to breathe too deeply.

The next day, he seemed perfectly normal, like a man with nothing on his mind beyond his next meal and a game of pai sho. And Azula had always thought she was the great liar in the family.

I considered asking him about it, but I kept my mouth shut. Part of me was afraid to hear the answer.

With the newcomers, the demand for action rose. Everyone had come in with a different account of Fire Nation weaknesses, which they presented to the Avatar and General Iroh as if to say, Your move.

They didn't move.

"I don't understand it," I said to Toph one morning as we wandered through the Lower Ring, "what are they waiting for?"

"Beats me," she said. "But if I don't do something soon, I might just have to start knocking down walls again."

Toph and the Avatar had gone out one day and brought down all the walls that separated the rings of Ba Sing Se. They had turned up at the Jasmine Dragon covered in dust and unrepentant. It was the first time I had seen Aang smile since I arrived in Ba Sing Se. The municipal earthbenders took a week to rebuild all the walls. General How, Sokka told me, had been furious.

"The longer they wait, the stronger Azula's position will be."

"Hey, I'm not the one sitting around waiting for an invitation."

That night, General How joined us at the Jasmine Dragon. He drank half a cup of oolong tea, then said, "So, Avatar. When do you propose to move against the new Fire Lord?"

Aang said, "I don't know."

"General Iroh," said How, "what is your next move?"

Iroh stroked his beard. "I really need to order more pu'er tea."

"Are you all cowards?"

"We're tired, General How," said Chief Hakoda. I had never heard him speak before. Now he rose to his feet. "The Fire Nation is exhausted and overstretched, but so are we. A lot of us have just escaped from prison. Of the rest, half are children, and battle-weary."

There was a general murmur of agreement.

"We're not an army," pointed out the girl called Smellerbee.

"You could lead armies," said How.

"You got one handy?" called one of the Water Tribe men.

General How said nothing. Earth Kingdom troops were scattered across the continent. But he was a good soldier. He made one more attempt.

"Chief Hakoda," he started.

"No." Hakoda sat down, slowly. "I need to go home and mourn my daughter. After that," he pulled a bone knife from its sheath and laid it on the table, "we'll end this war."

Later, I found the Avatar outside. We had a routine by now, sitting in silence.

"Sokka's going to the South Pole," he said. "And Suki. And Toph, even though she won't be able to see in the snow."

"You?" I asked.

"I can't." His mask cracked. "Katara would be alive if she hadn't gone with me. How can I go back and look her grandmother in the eye? Why would they even want me there?" His voice rose, and there was a gust of wind as he waved his arms.

A lot of thoughts were going through my head, starting with the fact that the South Pole was probably full of ways for girls to die, even without a war. There were footsteps behind me.

"Of course we want you there," said Sokka, putting his hand on Aang's shoulder. "And so would Katara."

When everyone was gone, and we were cleaning up, I said to Iroh, "What _are_ you going to do about Azula?"

He said, "Wait."

Despite the warmth of the early autumn air, I shivered.


	6. Chapter 6

**Aang**

The monks used to say that autumn was the season of the Air Nomads, the time when our bending was strongest. After we left Kyoshi Island and turned south, the air turned colder and the sky bluer, and it was all familiar.

"Feel that, buddy?" I said to Appa, running my hands through his fur, bracing myself against the pitch and roll of the ship. "That's the polar wind taking us home."

He rumbled happily.

"Really," said Toph, appearing behind me. She walked carefully, her hands held in front of her. She had put off donning the fur boots for as long as possible, but on a wooden ship, there wasn't much earth for her feet to see anyway. "I thought it was Sokka and Suki. Again."

"Again?"

Toph climbed into Appa's saddle.

"Every night since we left Kyoshi Island. And every morning. And in the afternoons, if Sokka's not busy. And those little cabins aren't exactly soundproof." She found the blanket I had been sleeping under and wrapped it around herself. "I'm just glad we're not on land, so I only have to hear it."

"It's not just because I like the open air that I've been sleeping with Appa," I admitted.

"I wish _I_ didn't feel the cold."

It was another week before we reached the Southern Water Tribe. I almost didn't recognise it when I spotted it from Appa's back. The tiny village had become a bustling little town. There were Northern ships in the harbour, and Sokka's watchtower had been replaced by a high tower of ice. Pakku's waterbenders had done good work.

I could have landed, but I wasn't ready to face their Gran-Gran on my own. I turned Appa around and went back to Hakoda's fleet. I wanted to fly away and keep flying until we wound up somewhere new, but I wasn't that kid anymore.

Maybe the others felt the same hesitation, because when we did land, Sokka hung back, holding Suki's hand and looking nervous.

"Practically the last thing Gran-Gran told me was to look after Katara," he said.

"Come on, son." Hakoda led him off the ship, and we followed.

The changes seemed even more pronounced from the ground. There was a sense of life and movement here, and it wasn't just because of the newcomers from the North. There was a big communal igloo in the centre of the village, and even some of the family homes looked larger than I remembered. This time, when the entire village gathered to meet us, I counted about fifty people.

Gran-Gran stood in the centre of the cluster, moving forward to greet us. She caught Hakoda in a rough hug that nearly knocked him off his feet, though he was twice her size.

"My son," she said, releasing him. "And Sokka."

"Gran-Gran." There was a muffled sob in Sokka's voice, and he let her stroke his hair. Straightening up, he wiped his eyes and said, "Gran-Gran, this is Suki of Kyoshi Island." He took Suki's hand again, which made her bow awkward, but Gran-Gran smiled.

"Come inside," she said, "out of the cold."

She greeted Pakku with a squeeze of his hand as he passed, then turned to me.

"Avatar," she said. I braced myself for her blame, but she just touched my shoulder and sent me inside with the rest.

"She sounds nice," Toph whispered, clinging to my hand.

"She banished me once," I told her, "but I kind of deserved it. Watch out for the dead animal skins on the floor. They're sort of," I caught Toph as she tripped, "thick."

That night there was a feast, heavy on the sea prunes. And the squid. And the sea crabs. I filled up on seaweed bread and wondered if I could convince myself that krill was more vegetable than animal. Afterwards, Gran-Gran poured tiny glasses of liquor from a black bottle, one for everyone, even Toph and I. There was no toast, but I thought of Katara as I drank, and I didn't think I was the only one.

The next day, we had the funeral.

It was the custom in the South Pole to lay a body out on the ice and lay out stones to protect it from animals. We had no body, but we built a wall of stone anyway. The wind froze my tears.

We - Katara's family - were the last to leave. Finally, Pakku and Hakoda persuaded Gran-Gran to return to the village.

Sokka said, "Our mom used to tell us that if you dream about a dead person, it means they don't want to leave. So you should give that person's name to a newborn."

Suki and Toph both winced. They had pretty strong taboos about using the names of the dead in the Earth Kingdom.

Before we left, I approached the stone memorial once more. The rock was icy as I touched it.

It was the simplest bit of earthbending to rearrange the surface of the stone to form the characters of Katara's name. Sokka nodded. "It's good," he said.

We went inside.

The Southern Water Tribe didn't have much room for people who couldn't work. Suki joined the hunters, and started teaching the women to fight. Sokka spent most of his time with his father, hunting and sailing and learning the skills he'd need to become a tribal chief. Even Toph, who rarely went outside if she could avoid it, found herself playing with the kids. They brought her stones, which she shaped into animals or people. I saw one little girl playing with a tiny copy of the Earth King and his bear.

Me - well, I played with the children, and helped the waterbenders, and watched Pakku teaching the two kids who had been identified as possible benders. I kept busy. Toph started teaching me metalbending, although it was even harder than learning to bend earth. I ate a lot of sea prunes. I got used to the taste after a while, but the texture was just wrong.

People tried to ask me about the war. Some of the warriors wanted to go back. Others felt they had neglected their families for too long. A few of the women wanted to sail out with the men next time. Most people seemed think that, with Ozai gone and the Fire Nation quiet for now, we could afford to rest. Hakoda and Sokka disagreed, but they were tired.

I was tired, too. Some nights I dreamed that I was Ozai, and then I'd lie awake in the cold darkness, wondering if they were nightmares or memories. It had been easier in Ba Sing Se, where I could open my glider and fly until I was too exhausted to dream, but this wasn't a place where you could just slip out for a few hours in the middle of the night. Going out alone here was an easy way to die.

Sometimes I dreamed of Azula, looking down at her with a mixture of affection and contempt. But when I woke up from those dreams, I was always angry. Angry because she had killed my friends. Angry because she hadn't made Zuko's choices. I couldn't be detached when I thought of her, so I shoved her to the back of my mind and changed the subject whenever the war was raised.

No one blamed me for Katara's death. Maybe it hadn't occurred to them yet that she'd probably be alive and okay if I'd never turned up.

"Or maybe," said Toph when I finally admitted this to her, "they think there are a lot more people who'd be dead if she hadn't found you. Like most of the Earth Kingdom." Clad from top to bottom in furs so that only her mouth was visible, she looked like a very small, upright air bison.

"So basically," she continued, "you're worrying because no one's thinking about you as they grieve. And don't take this the wrong way, Twinkletoes, but not even Zuko was that self-centred." She paused. "Well, most of the time."

"You know, Toph, you're pretty wise."

"Damn straight. Where are these penguins?"

I pointed her in the right direction. "Trust me," I said, "penguin sledding is the very best thing about the South Pole. You're going to love it."

At the bottom of the hill, after I dug her out of the snow, she grabbed me by the collar and stuffed snow down my top.

"That," she said, "was even worse than flying. I hate the cold, and I hate not being able to see, and I'm sick of all the good, solid rocks being covered by snow." She stopped to draw breath, but it turned into a sob.

"I'm sick of thinking of really good ways to annoy Katara, and then her not being around," she said. "And everyone goes on about how sweet and clever and kind she was-"

"She was!"

"Yeah, but she was also a big fat pain in the butt." Toph sniffled. "I really miss that."

"Yeah," I said, "me too."

After Toph's outburst, I figured it was just a matter of time until she asked me and Appa to take her back to the Earth Kingdom. I hadn't counted on Sokka.

"Look at this," he said, thrusting a scroll into Toph's hands.

"Wow, Sokka. It's paper. That's amazing."

"Oh, right. Well, it's a plan. I," he puffed out his chest, "have had an idea."

"We're doomed," Suki muttered, but we all crowded around to look.

"Is it a house?" Suki asked.

"Is that the floor?" I asked. "Is it meant to lift up?"

"Yes," said Sokka, and he told us his plan.

We used a dogsled to get out to the quarry. Appa rumbled in dismay, but he wasn't really built for hauling rocks. And Momo nearly discovered the hard way that wolf-dogs didn't like to be ridden, and spent the rest of the day sulking in the hood of Sokka's parka.

It took me about an hour to air- and waterbend the snow away from the biggest, flattest rocks. I used firebending to clear the ice that remained, and to warm the rocks, then Toph pulled her mukluks off and jumped down onto the stone.

"Oh yeah," she said, stretching her toes. "This is the stuff."

We bent big, square slabs of stone onto the dogsled. Toph didn't put her mukluks back on until the last possible moment.

By the evening, we'd laid the foundations. The walls took another day: they were stone, with snow packed between layers of rock for insulation.

When it was done, we had a house. Or a room, anyway. A big room. We let Toph go in first.

She circled slowly, nodding thoughtfully, then pulled off her mukluks.

"Sokka," she said, "you are a genius."

The floor consisted of two layers of stone. The top layer consisted of tiles that could be lifted, with room beneath them for coal or seaweed or - really, anything that would smoulder. But for now, firebending alone had heated the floor.

"Oh yeah," said Sokka. "Am I good? I'm good, aren't I?"

Toph was a lot happier after that, and we all unofficially moved into her house. Momo could be relied on to find the warmest slab of rock, and even Appa seemed to like sleeping close to this little piece of warmth. Time seemed to slow here: we seemed safe from the war, families were reunited, people were healing.

I needed to move on.

I woke up one morning and realised it was three days since the Autumn equinox, and I was thirteen years old. Or one hundred and thirteen. And I had been away too long. People were too close here. It was hard to be alone. Even in Ba Sing Se, I'd found space to just sit and be silent. I missed the way Mai would drink tea with me in the evenings, the way she'd sit with me without speaking.

I didn't have many belongings to pack. Sokka and the others found me loading Appa.

"It's not forever," I said. "Just for a few weeks. Or months, maybe. I need to go to the Southern Air Temple for a while."

"On your own?" I'd never noticed before, but Sokka sounded a lot like Katara when he worried.

"Don't be silly," I said. "Appa and Momo will be with me."

"You - you." Sokka gave up and pointed at Momo. "You look after him, you hear?" Momo chittered.

If Toph didn't break one of my ribs when she hugged me, it wasn't for lack of trying. "Look after yourself," she said roughly.

"Take care," added Suki.

Sokka hesitated, then swept me into a tight, rough hug. "Send Momo to let us know how you are," he said. "If we don't hear from you, I'll walk up that mountain myself to find you."

I nodded. I didn't think I could speak just then. Sokka seemed to understand.

I jumped onto Appa's neck. "I promise," I managed to say, "I'll be fine." I took the reins. "Yip yip."

They fell away beneath me, and I didn't look back. "Let's go home," I told Appa.


	7. Chapter 7

**Azula**

I found my father on the training grounds, haranguing the Imperial Weapons Master. Master Jiao stopped and bowed when he saw me approach, and the servants dropped to their knees.

My father merely turned his head and smiled, still holding Jiao's latest creation.

"Good morning, Azula," he said.

"Leave us," I told Jiao and the rest. I waited until we were alone. It wouldn't do to let them see my anger. It wouldn't do.

When we had privacy I said, "You might have told me yourself. I had to find out from Li and Lo."

Father braced the gun against his shoulder and fired. The projectile did not quite hit the target.

"Your aim is off," I said. "Or is it the weapon that's inferior?"

He looked like Zuko when he was angry. I felt reckless and untouchable. "Is this how you serve me," I pushed, "bartering me off to your cronies' sons?"

"You need to marry," he said. "Captain Chan Li is able and honourable, and his father controls the Eastern Fleet. He's even a young man."

"Thirty," I said. "I met his younger brother once. I kissed him, then we burned down his house."

I might have declared my intention to find and marry the Earth King, for all my father cared. He took aim and fired again. "Azula," he said, in the tone he used to speak to children, or Zuko, "you need the support of the Navy, and you need an heir. Quickly."

_I'm barely fifteen_, I wanted to say.

Instead, I said, "The Fire Navy's support should be unquestioned."

"With Admiral Chan's son as your consort, it will be." He turned his back on me, all of his attention on his weapon.

This wasn't the way to treat a Fire Lord. It wasn't even the way to treat a princess. I felt a surge of anger and channeled it into my fingertips, letting the raw power surge through my body and emerge as lightning.

My father turned back to look at me as the training ground exploded around us.

He smiled.

I left him standing there in the wreckage, and went to sit in the garden.

"You know what he does with the weapons that don't work the way he wants," Zuko told me. Or at least, I heard his voice, but when I looked around, I was alone except for my guards.

My initial anger was giving way to something else, something cold and unfamiliar. Li and Lo had brought me the news as I dressed, and at first I thought they were joking. My marriage was not my father's to contract, and I wouldn't have chosen such a minor family, regardless of how many fleets they controlled. The Navy problem was mine to solve, just as my marriage was mine to make, and Father had taken control of both.

It would have been easier if the Avatar had killed him. I hated myself for thinking it, but the notion persisted. Even without his bending, my father was a powerful force in the Fire Nation. Had he been anyone else, I would have ordered him assassinated, as a warning to those who thought they could eclipse the Fire Lord.

But he was my father, and I trusted him, however much I resented his interference.

("Trust?" my mother had whispered in my ear, late at night. "In Ozai? I thought you understood people, Azula." She lied. Of course she lied. My mother always lied to me.)

The betrothal had been organised without my knowledge or consent. I could simply refuse to go through with it. But then I would make an enemy of Admiral Chan. Who controlled the Eastern Fleet.

Father had arranged things very nicely. He and his allies, who were supposed to be _my_ advisers, _my_ ministers, _my_ admirals. When the Fire Nation recovered from what the Avatar did to us, I swore, I would make every lord and minister pay for the disloyalty they had shown me.

In the meantime - in the meantime -

When I was born, there was a tacit understanding that I would marry my cousin, Lu Ten, the crown prince. We didn't much care for each other. He was thirteen years older than me, and a fool, Uncle's son in all the worst possible ways, and he regarded me with indifference that turned into dislike after I killed his hare-puppy. But the betrothal was formalised when I was seven, and had Lu Ten lived, I would have done my duty and married him.

But he died when I was eight, and then Grandfather, and Father took the throne. And with our change in status, our futures became more changeable. Zuko's betrothal to Mai was brought to an end - it was unthinkable for a future Fire Lord to marry a non-bender, though I don't think Zuko ever grasped that reality. Father occasionally toyed with new betrothals for both of us, sending the court into paroxysms of gossip and manoeuvring, but nothing ever came of it. We were much too valuable to be thrown away on just anyone.

Or so I had thought.

As for what I wanted-

At Ember Island, in the wreckage of Admiral Chan's beach house, I had made Ty Lee kiss me.

"You don't need to order me to do _that_," she said, obeying. But she had betrayed me along with Mai, and that became another memory to put aside.

Footsteps approached. Father. He knelt before me and took my hands. "I know you'll do your duty, Azula," he said gently. "Without an heir, your position is precarious." He squeezed my hand. "Fire Lord."

It was the first time he had addressed me by my title.

He said, "I felt the same, when I was told to marry your mother."

Yes, I thought, but he was a man. I was a woman, and a Fire Lord, and my heirs would come from my own body. Mother should have been grateful to be given to a prince. I'd never bothered to ask, when she was alive, but I could imagine her answer. It was pointless to despise a dead traitor. Just as it was pointless to fight this marriage my father had so kindly arranged.

I smiled at him.

"You're right, of course. And Captain Chan Li was a wise choice. I look forward to meeting him." I leaned forward, forcing my father to look up at me. "And if you ever go behind my back again," I said, "I will have you exiled."

Mixed with his surprise, I thought, was a touch of pride.

It was winter before I met my husband-to-be. The weather turned wild and rainy, with unusually heavy snowfalls in the north. There were treasonous whispers that the spirits were restless. Lord Tenshi went so far as to declare open rebellion, and it took the better part of a month to re-take his little island stronghold. It was cold and dark, and our firebending suffered.

Even in the capital, the very centre of my power, there was an ugly, restless mood. Someone was spreading dissent among the commoners, painting the walls of the city with seditious diatribes, all signed in the name of the dawn. After a servant made a clumsy attempt to assassinate me, I sent my Dai Li through the city to restore order. It was an efficient but unpopular move. I began to avoid windows and open spaces, and ate only from the dishes from which other people had taken. I was sleeping badly. My dead relatives were constantly whispering treason in my ear, and only hours of meditation would silence them.

This was the state in which I met my future consort.

He entered the throne room flanked by his father and brother and dropped to his knees before my throne. I parted the flames before me and advanced, holding my hand out to him as Li and Lo advised.

"Fire Lord," he said.

"Rise."

Chan Li was taller than his younger brother, and slightly broader, with a pleasant, weather-beaten face. A neat beard could not disguise the scar on his chin or the smile lines around his mouth.

He didn't look like a fool or a coward. His hands were dry, calloused from handling weapons and firebending. He was an impressive figure in his formal uniform. I thought I might like him even better out of it.

Our families exchanged the gifts, the Fire Sages performed their rituals. His mother presented me with the betrothal jewellery. In a month, we would be married.

The celebration that followed lasted for hours. It was very late before I had a chance to take Chan Li aside and say, "Come with me."

We were soaked through by the time we reached the pavilion by the lake, but at least we had privacy. We lit the torches and faced each other.

"Are you afraid of me?" I asked. "It's all right. Lots of people are."

His smile was a little twisted. "Fear is generally considered an unlikely foundation for a relationship."

"That's not an answer."

He walked past me, looking out over the lake.

"When my father told me about this arrangement," he said, "he wanted to use me as a tool to advance the ambitions of our family. He told me you were a child, and that your father is practically a cripple, and through you, I would effectively control the Fire Nation." He turned back to look at me. "By which he meant _he_ would control the Fire Nation."

"And?"

"And you're not a child, and you are-"

"Fearsome?" I asked, sitting.

"Formidable."

"It'll do."

"And your father is very powerful." He knelt, speaking so quietly I could hardly hear him above the rain. "I watched him tonight, the way the court still revolves around him. Because you're very young, and a woman, and he's familiar and experienced." He traced the lines of my palm with his finger. "I won't be my father's pawn," he said, "but I would be honoured to be your ally."

His fingers moved to my inner wrist, running over the veins and tendons.

"Fire Lord," he said, "let me serve you."

His kiss was assured, pressing. Not like Ty Lee's, but not unpleasant. After a second I returned it.

"I know what you're doing," I told him. "And I don't trust you yet, either."

He cupped my face in his hand, tracing my lips with his thumb.

"That's how I know my father was wrong," he said.


	8. Chapter 8

**Aang**

The first thing I did was dispose of the bodies.

It took Appa and I days to move all the bones. We had had no resources for burial or cremation at the Air Temples, so we left our dead to the sky and the birds. Where only bones remained, they would be ground to powder and mixed with barley flour and yak-deer butter, and given to the sparrow-hawks. There were special sites for the sky burials, that could be reached only by air.

When my people were alive, there were monks and nuns who dedicated their lives to the rituals. Now there was only me.

When I was eight years old, my father was killed in a glider accident. Gyatso took me to the Northern Air Temple, and I sat with my mother and sisters and listened to the ritual prayers. I realised later that my mother must have known I was the Avatar, but she never said anything about it to me.

Now, as I prepared Gyatso's bones, I wondered if my father had known. Or if it even mattered, because Gyatso had been both mother and father to me. Family was different, among the Air Nomads. I kept the carved wooden beads he had worn. They were a comforting weight around my neck.

My sisters' names were Pema and Rinchen. They were older than me, raised by the nuns at the Eastern Air Temple. If I hadn't run away, I might have been able to save them.

The Temple's food stores were all burned out. The barley grew wild, half-trampled by yak-deer that had forgotten what people were. I used airbending to grind the flour and churn the butter, and welcomed the taste of home. Sometimes I saw wild lemurs, and Appa chased the wild bison herds that went into hiding whenever they saw me.

I worked from sunrise to dusk. I slept heavily every night. I didn't dream.

I still didn't know what to do about the war. The Fire Nation was weak, but everyone else was even weaker. Could I take Azula's bending? Would that even change anything?

When winter fell, I went into the Avatar sanctuary to meditate.

The Spirit World seemed warmer than the Southern Air Temple, but it was still and empty. I walked through the great forest, searching for someone I knew, and although I sometimes felt like I was being watched, no one came forward.

I cupped my hands to my mouth.

"Roku?" I called, "Fang?"

The only answer was an echo.

"Hai Be?" I tried. "Wan Shi Tong?" I hesitated. "Katara? Zuko?"

"The spirits won't come."

I spun around. Leaning against a tree was a young man in a Fire Nation soldier's uniform. He was handsome, in a stocky sort of way, and young, no more than twenty-five. In his hair, encircling his topknot, was a pointed hairpiece, the same as the one Azula had worn.

"My cousin won't come either," said the ghost-spirit. "Or your friend. They're too far away."

"You must be General Iroh's son." I gave him a bow in the Fire Nation style. "You look a bit like him."

"It was said that I looked like Fire Lord Sozin," he told me. "Growing up, I wanted to be as great a Fire Lord as he was."

"Oh."

"When I died, my father abandoned the siege of Ba Sing Se and spent two years learning to enter the Spirit World, to find me. He called my name, but I couldn't come."

"You're here now."

"You won't try to bring me back." Prince Lu Ten looked down at me. "Why are you here, Avatar?"

"I came for wisdom."

"The dead have no wisdom. Only memories."

"The spirits-"

"Are out of balance. My cousin wasn't meant to die. The Fire Nation wasn't supposed to have Azula."

The dismissive way he said it made me angry. "Fine!" I said, "so this isn't the way the spirits wanted it to work out. It wasn't how I planned things, either! And while they're going on about Zuko, and the Fire Nation's destiny, well, this wasn't supposed to be Katara's destiny, either! So if the spirits are going to hide and sulk, maybe they can take some time to think about her, too!"

"I do," said a new voice, and Lu Ten vanished as the Moon Spirit appeared.

"Yue." I bowed. "I'm-"

"Sorry?" She sounded slightly amused, the way she did when she was alive. "Don't be. The spirits are vast, and people are small. They forget, sometimes. Maybe I will, too."

"I don't think so," I said.

"I hope not." She looked troubled. "Aang, the world is precariously balanced right now."

"Everyone's holding their breath," I said.

"Exactly. If you start the war again, so many more people will die needlessly."

"And if Azula stays in power?" I asked. "How many die then?"

"Fewer. We hope."

"But it's hard to tell when people are so small."

She flinched at my bitterness.

"The spirits can't see the future," said Yue, "only the present, and everything that went before. Watch and listen, and you'll know when the time is right to move." She reached out, touching my forehead. "You're out of balance, too, Aang," she said. "It would be dangerous for you to act now."

"Neutral jing?" I asked, but she had already faded away.

Eventually I opened my eyes, and I was back in the Air Temple.

I meditated through the winter, but I couldn't reach the Spirit World. It was like a door had closed, and if I pushed too hard, I would only lock it.

When the snow melted, I sent a message to Sokka that I was moving on, and not to look for me. Then Appa, Momo and I left for the Western Air Temple. I went through the same rituals again there, taking the bones of my people out to the sky. The skeletons were all anonymous, so I prayed for all those nuns as if they had been my mother.

At night, I slept with Gyatso's beads in my hand, as if they could protect me from my dreams. Maybe it worked, a little, or maybe Momo was getting better at waking me up before the worst of it started. But there were still mornings when I woke up thinking I was a different man.

Once I had disposed of the bodies, I began to restore the temple. I started with the sections damaged by Azula, then moved on to the parts destroyed by her ancestors. As I worked, I found myself thinking about Avatar Kuruk. He had lost his wife to Koh, and he searched for her still in the Spirit World. But death was different.

And love? We might never have married, but I loved her, and I was honoured to be her friend and pupil. I was honoured to have known her.

I missed her.

After the spring equinox, I started to feel like I'd been in one place too long. But it took me a while to work out where I wanted to go. Guru Pathrik had taken care of the bodies at the Eastern Air Temple. In the north, the Mechanist and his people had buried the dead in the soft mountain ground, Earth Kingdom style. It made my flesh creep, but it was their way.

In the end, we flew east, back towards the Earth Kingdom. It was strange to see people again after my months alone. I had no money, but I worked for food. As the weather grew warmer, I seemed to be hungry all the time, and now I was as tall as most of the women I met.

People talked about the war, but it seemed very remote. The front had shifted, the Fire Nation moving back to more defensible positions. Smaller colonies had been abandoned, I was told. Victorious Earth Kingdom troops would be home by midwinter.

It was exactly what I'd been trying to tell myself since the Comet, which was probably why I didn't believe it.

That night I dreamed that I was in the bunker beneath the palace. The chambers were almost empty; the eclipse had passed, the invasion had been defeated, and I could return to the surface at my leisure.

At my feet knelt Azula, her forehead touching the floor.

"Your brother told me about your deception."

Her shoulders tensed, but she wasted no time on apologies I wouldn't believe.

"I'm disappointed. I thought you were reliable."

She raises her head, fear in her eyes. Good. I had underestimated her badly, and let her think that Zuko's fate could never be hers. That ended now.

"Father," she said as I stood up.

Momo woke me up as the flames rose. For a second I was paralysed, lightning on the tips of my fingers.

Momo bit me.

"Ow!" I said, but that had broken the spell. Satisfied, he curled up on my shoulder and tugged affectionately at my ear.

I didn't sleep much after that.

A few days later, we were flying north up the coast when we saw a cloud of dust in the distance, glowing red here and there from explosions on the ground.

"Stay out of the way," I told Appa and Momo. "I won't be long."

I grabbed my glider and jumped.

I cleared the dust as I flew, so I had a pretty good view of the battle. It was smaller than I'd expected, just a ragged Earth Kingdom platoon throwing itself against a mismatched group of Fire Nation citizens. I spotted only a handful of the red and black uniforms, and only basic weapons in addition to the single tank.

I landed on a cannon. My metalbending wasn't as good as Toph's, but I could break things just fine. Then I jumped to the next cannon, then the next. Then I froze the water that kept the tank balanced, moving way too fast for the soldiers who tried to stop me. A pair of earthbenders took advantage of the lull to aim one of their massive granite disks at the other side, but I brought that to a halt and cracked it down the middle.

When the battle had ground to a confused and angry stop, I vaulted into the middle, where an Earth Kingdom colonel and a Fire Nation lieutenant were glaring at each other, hands raised in fighting stances.

"Hi," I said, "I'm the Avatar. What seems to be the problem here?"

The problem was that this land had been annexed by the Fire Nation sixty years ago. The Earth Kingdom citizens either fled and became refugees, or stayed, and were forced to work as servants or labourers. A few were allowed into positions of trust and power, but they didn't seem to live very long.

"Collaborators," spat Colonel Hyung.

"Murdered by their own people," snapped Lieutenant Dayu.

Once Hyung got over his outrage that I wasn't just going to wipe out the Fire Nation people, and Dayu recovered from his shock that I was even talking to him, they were both eager to fill me in. They even gave me a meal, Earth Kingdom rations with fire flakes. Not fancy, but I wasn't fussy.

Colonel Hyung had grown up in the area. His grandfather had been the mayor of the town that had become a small Fire Nation city. He had always hoped to be the one to drive the Fire Nation away, but it was a strong outpost and open warfare always seemed impossible.

Until last year, when the Fire Nation troops defending this region were taken away. They lost some territory back to the Earth Kingdom then, and a mob of earthbenders even got into the city and collapsed an administrative building.

"That was bad enough," said Lieutenant Dayu, the military governor and commander of the last remaining battalion, "but two weeks ago, Fire Nation recruiters conscripted the young and able-bodied colonists. Now we have middle-aged bureaucrats defending the land, and there aren't enough people to work the fields."

"Maybe you should get some Earth Kingdom slaves to do it for you," said Colonel Hyung.

"That's an historic libel!"

"Are you calling my great-uncle a liar?"

"Are you calling my mother a slave-owner?"

"Guys," I said.

"My ancestors had a civilisation back when you Earth Kingdom savages were living in mud shacks!"

"Civilisation? Is that what you call it when-"

"_Guys!_"

Finally they stopped and resumed their seats.

"How do you want this resolved?" I asked.

"I want him," Hyung waved at Dayu, "and his type to go back where they came from."

"I was born here," said Dayu. "I want my home to be left in peace."

"Good luck," said Hyung. "Way things look now, we only have to wait for you lot to run out of food."

Dayu flinched. I guessed he hadn't been exaggerating about the lack of people to work the fields.

"We'll get shipments from the Fire Nation," he said, but he didn't sound like he believed it.

"I don't get it," I said, "why would Azula leave her citizens to starve? Don't people care?" But even as I said it, I thought of the way people had sneered when they thought we were from the colonies.

"I'm sure the Fire Lord has her reasons," said Dayu piously.

"Right," I said. "Don't you even care that she killed her brother?"

Dayu swallowed. "He was said to be a traitor."

"She wanted power so badly," I said, "and she's not even a good leader." The anger that I'd been trying to repress for months was growing. I climbed to my feet and began to pace. I had watched and listened, just like the spirits told me, and this was what I saw and heard.

"This is what you're going to do," I said to the men. "Dayu, you really want to stay here? Till the land and make the city thrive?"

He nodded.

"All right," I said. "Declare your independence from the Fire Nation. Ally with the Earth Kingdom, and let Hyung's people live here as free citizens."

"No!" both men snapped.

"See?" I grinned. "You've just found common ground."

Dayu made little choked noises, and finally managed to say, "...treason..."

"The way I figure it, Azula betrayed you first," I said.

"They can't stay here," said Hyung. "This is the _Earth Kingdom_. They're invaders."

"Their grandparents were invaders. These guys now, they're just … people."

"Lots of people will be very angry about this," said Hyung.

"I know. That's why you need sensible people in charge, who won't just make this a different kind of war."

Both men were silent for a long time.

Eventually, Dayu said, in a small voice, "Many people have children at school in the Fire Nation, or serving in the army. If they stay, they'll never get to see them again."

"If anyone wants to go back to the Fire Nation, they can," I said. "But anyone who stays - that's it. They're part of the Earth Kingdom now. And it doesn't matter if the people of the Earth Kingdom don't believe that," I gave Hyung a hard look, "because Fire Lord Azula won't care very much."

"She might send her troops to reclaim it," Dayu said.

Hyung said, "This land means a lot to the people around here. We'd help you defend it, if we could be part of it again."

Cautiously, they shook hands.

It was a lot more complicated than that, of course. A mere colonel couldn't accept a defecting city, and Dayu had to answer to the city council. I spent days talking, persuading, pleading. Begging a little.

In the end, a lot of Fire Nation people left. Most of the upper classes were gone, and quite a few of the merchants. The majority of the commoners stayed, not having much to go back for, and maybe knowing that they'd be better off in the Earth Kingdom than as Azula's subjects.

I took to spending time in tea houses and bars, just listening to people talk. Not just about politics, but about their lives. Kids. Sweethearts.

One man, a factory worker, wanted to go back and kill Azula, but he was dissuaded by his friends.

"You won't get near her," said one, an older woman with a face scarred from an industrial accident, "and then she'll retaliate against all the common people in the capital." She moved her glass and traced a character in the moisture on the table. "Let the nobles take her out. They get the consequences. We get someone better. Everyone wins."

"Enough of that,," the barman said, and sent them on their way. While he was gone I slipped out of my little corner to look at the character she had written on the table. It said 'dawn'.

I was there for a few weeks, and by the time I left, the Earth Kingdom had reclaimed its lost city, and young earthbenders were learning traditional Fire Nation festival dances.

No more waiting. I knew what I had to do. We flew directly to Ba Sing Se, landing in the courtyard in front of Iroh's tea shop. A few people greeted me as I went inside, but I didn't stop to talk. I knew who I was looking for.

The tea shop was almost empty. I found Mai sitting at a table, her server's apron thrown over a chair, her hands curled around a cup of bitter-smelling tea. She looked tired and unhappy, but she looked up as I approached.

"I'm going to assassinate Azula," I told her. "Do you want to come?


	9. Chapter 9

Apologies for the delay in posting! I've been a bit caught up with other things, like working and having afternoon naps. I hope to be a bit more consistent with updates from here on out. Only 11 chapters to go!

* * *

><p><strong>Mai<strong>

I woke up that morning to find myself in bed with a stranger.

The bed wasn't mine, and the stranger was a young man with muscular arms and heavily calloused hands. My head ached, and my mouth tasted like moose-lion fur, and my clothes lay in a trail from the door to the bed.

So much for my mother's lessons on decorum, ladylike modesty and the expectations men had for a daughter of the nobility.

(I had lost my virginity to Zuko on a warm summer morning soon after we returned from Ember Island. But princes, I had been told, could have whatever they wanted, and anyway, we were too absorbed in each other to admit that our fantasy marriage would never be allowed to happen.)

My bed-mate snored. I put my arm over my eyes and put together the pieces of the previous night.

Lately I had been spending my evenings in the Lower Ring, eating hawker food and drinking with Smellerbee and Longshot. I didn't know much about them, not even their real names, but they had helped liberate Ba Sing Se, and they knew Iroh by his Earth Kingdom alias of Mushi. They were peasants, and at first regarded me with mingled distrust and contempt. But Smellerbee was handy with knives, and Longshot was an archer to rival the Yu Yan, and they were both mourning a friend who had been killed by the Dai Li, so we bonded over our weapons and losses.

We had gone out last night, drinking the cheap, rough liquor that they favoured in the Lower Ring, until Smellerbee got into first an argument, then a fight with a stranger. The bouncers, who had previously ignored us, had no choice but to throw us out.

The other two went home after that, and I stayed out alone. It had been a bad day, and the last thing I wanted was to go back to the apartment in the Upper Ring, where Iroh would be meditating or summoning spirits.

I found another wine shop and bought a bottle of sickly-sweet plum wine, the kind Ty Lee and I used to sneak when we were at school. I had been feeling weirdly out of kilter lately, like I was standing still and watching the rest of the world move. Zuko and Ty Lee were dead, Azula and I were alive. I shouldn't have followed Li and Lo out of that room. I shouldn't have let Ty Lee go off alone. I shouldn't have lived.

My parents certainly wouldn't have cared if I died. I had a letter sent to the Fire Nation colony where they took refuge after the fall of Omashu, letting them know I was alive and safe. Part of me even hoped they would want me to come and join them. More than anything else, as I sealed that scroll, I had wanted to be back with them, bored and unfulfilled, but at least with people I knew.

They didn't answer. Either they were dead, or they were deluded enough to think my father would have a career in Azula's government and didn't want me hurting his prospects. It didn't matter, I told myself again as I poured another glass of plum wine. We didn't need each other. All my life I had been treated as either a liability or an asset. Without them, I was free to be a person.

Whatever that meant.

It was very late when I left, and I had no sense of direction in the narrow streets. And right around the same time I realised I was lost, I realised I was also being followed.

Three guys. Big ones. Armed. Not soldiers, just thugs, which would have been comforting, except I was fumbling as I reached for my knives.

Once, because Azula dared me, I had drunk half a bottle of raspberry wine and then thrown my knives at an ancient tree that stood outside her bedroom. My aim back then had been perfect, and Azula had demanded I teach her the skill.

Now I had drunk considerably more than half a bottle, and I was out of practice. And the weapons I had bought in the Lower Ring markets were of much poorer quality than what I was accustomed to.

The first blade sliced one man's face open. He stumbled back, more surprised than hurt. Then he took a step forward, raising his arms, and the earth rose up to lock my feet in place. I began to feel strangely detached, as if I was watching myself from very far away.

My next knife went awry.

A meaty hand closed around my throat.

"We probably would have left you alive," he said. "But maybe not."

At this range, I couldn't miss. My knife embedded itself in his throat and he dropped to the ground, making a horrible gurgling sound. The rocks holding me in place loosened.

I started to run, but my balance was off, and I stumbled. One of my other attackers caught me, then something sailed out of the darkness and yanked first him, then his accomplice away.

I stood there, blinking stupidly, as the guards approached. Stone chains bound the two survivors. The third one was already dead, and I wondered if I, too, would be arrested. But they just led me by the hand to the guard house, where I was given tea and a blanket. Someone asked if I wanted them to call my father, and I realised that they thought I was an Upper Ring brat who went slumming and got in over her head, too powerful to charge with the death of a street thug.

"No," I kept saying, "no, I'm fine. You don't need to call anyone."

I couldn't get the sound of his death out of my head. The heavy, wet breathing mingled with the memory of Zuko dying.

Eventually a hand covered mine, and the squad leader said, "I'm going off duty. Is there anywhere I could take you?"

He was young, good-looking, ridiculously alive.

"Your place?" I said.

He blinked. I stood up, realising as I did so that I was still quite drunk, but I could walk straight. I kissed him.

So he took me back to his tiny, cramped apartment. And it was strange, not like being with Zuko. I still felt like I was an observer in my own life, playing out a role in one of the cheap peasant romances that Ty Lee loved. But we made it work, and I fell at last into a deep sleep.

The last thing I heard before I lost consciousness was, "You didn't even give me your name."

"Ty Lee," I told him.

Now the sun was rising. I climbed out of bed - my companion shifted, but didn't wake - and pulled my clothes on. My weapons and launchers had been left on a chair. I washed my face and found my pai sho tile on the floor near my shoes.

The streets were full of the smell of food when I stepped outside. My stomach turned over, and I walked faster. Movement made my head hurt more, but it was a long way to the Inner Ring and I was already running late.

The sun was high when I finally reached the palace, but Piandao was still waiting in the courtyard he used for training. He looked me up and down as I approached, taking in my messy hair and the bloodstains on yesterday's clothes. But he said nothing as retrieved my sword, merely saluting me with his own as I bowed.

He was a kinder teacher than my grandmother had been, but no less exacting. When he had defeated me for the third time, he sheathed his sword and said, "Enough, Mai."

"Apologies, Master."

He pursed his lips. There was movement behind him: Sokka, bearing a jug of water and some glasses. I drained my glass in one long, unladylike swallow, then refilled it, avoiding Sokka's gaze.

"Now," said Piandao, "Sokka. Mai. Step into the circle."

"Are you okay?" Sokka asked quietly as we took our positions. I pretended not to have heard.

It took Sokka a whole fifteen seconds to disarm me. We had trained together every day since he returned from the South Pole a month ago. Usually I could hold him off for a few minutes. Once I even beat him. Without pulling my knives out.

"Sokka," said Piandao, "would you mind stepping inside for a moment?"

When we were alone, he said, "That was very disappointing."

"Yes."

"Generally, my students improve. What I just saw was ten times worse than when you began."

I bit back the glib response that was on my tongue, and just nodded.

Very gently, Piandao took the sword from my hand. "You have a lot of talent, Mai," he said. "It's an honour and a pleasure to have you as my student. But by coming here tired, hungover and filthy, you've shown great disrespect to me and my teachings. If it happens again, that will be the end."

He walked away, leaving me alone, sick to my stomach and angry. I sat down on a stone bench and brooded.

Eventually, Sokka returned with more water. "If it's any consolation," he said, "I did pretty much the same thing a few weeks back."

I blinked, feeling stupid. "You got drunk and slept with a city guard?"

"Okay, not quite the same thing. But Piandao gave me the exact same speech. It's not because you're a girl or anything."

I lifted my head. He was staring straight ahead, doing a good job of looking casual. "Thanks," I said.

"Any time."

I drank the last of the water, and wondered if I was ready to think about food.

"Are you hungry?" I asked.

"Mai," said Sokka, "I'm always hungry."

We foraged in the palace kitchens, eating hot dumplings and listening to the staff gossip about the likely whereabouts of the Earth King. Afterwards, Sokka walked me back to the apartment.

"Because, no offence or anything," he said, "but you look like hell. And you really need to bathe."

He had been kind to me, so I didn't make a remark about Water Tribe barbarians and their bad manners.

I felt a lot better when I was clean, and I even got a few hours sleep before my shift at the tea shop began. Fresh clothes and clean hair made me feel more like myself. Iroh gave me a concerned look when I arrived, and he said quietly, "I was worried when you didn't come home last night."

"It won't happen again."

He pressed a little packet into my hand and went to serve a customer. It was wild carrot leaf tea, to prevent pregnancy. For a second, I was angry - he must have spoken to Piandao; these old men who regarded the entire world as their own to manipulate - but the emotion quickly passed. It was here. I needed it. That was all that really mattered.

It was a long, quiet afternoon. I took a break and brewed the tea while the shop was empty. Iroh squeezed my shoulder as I sat down. The tea was probably intended as a kind gesture, I thought. He had been a general. Female soldiers were supposed to be promiscuous. He was probably beyond shock, at least about that.

The door opened. Light footsteps approached me. I looked up, into the Avatar's face.

He said, "I'm going to assassinate Azula. Do you want to come?"

"Of course," I said.

We entered the Fire Nation two weeks later, using one of the airships left from the earlier escapes. Aang left Appa behind, along with Momo and a lot of angry friends.

"Fine," said Sokka, when his final attempt to dissuade Aang failed. "You go get yourself killed. When you're reborn in the Water Tribe, I'll make sure you grow up knowing how my sister died for nothing."

Toph just scowled and said nothing. She had done her shouting already.

Iroh was the angriest of all. I had never seen him in a temper, and for the first time I understood why he had been called the Dragon of the West. "This plan is foolish beyond belief," he thundered. "How will killing Azula create balance? Will it restore the dead? Offer justice to the living?"

"It will prevent a lot more deaths," said Aang.

Iroh shook his head.

We were in the empty Jasmine Dragon, an abacus crumbling into ash as Iroh's hands clenched.

"Mai," he said, "do you want to throw away your life on this foolish and desperate plan?"

"It's my life to throw away. In a few years, no one will remember or care." I looked down at the blade in my hand. "If I hadn't betrayed Azula, maybe Zuko would be alive."

"I don't think so," said Aang. "I don't think she was the same after Ozai found out she lied about me being alive." He squeezed my arm. "It's not your fault. It's mine."

"Because you showed mercy to my brother?" Iroh asked.

"Because I had lots of chances to take Azula down, and I wasted all of them."

"She and Katara were of an age," said Iroh.

"Yeah." Aang's eyes were hard. He looked like an old man. "So Azula's death will bring balance."

He walked out, leaving Iroh and I alone together.

"I will miss you," he told me.

"You'll get over it," I said. "Most people do."

Aang refused to see him after that. I was tempted to move out of Iroh's apartment, but it wasn't for much longer, and I had nowhere else to go. But I stopped working at the tea shop and spent most of my days training. If Piandao agreed with Iroh, he didn't tell me. In fact, he didn't say anything, but his lessons took on a brutal new intensity, and two days before we left, he helped me forge a sword of my own.

The next evening, the night before we were to leave, Iroh watched me pack.

I said, "I'm doing this for Zuko, you know."

"Yes. A stupid and destructive gesture is a fitting tribute, I suppose." He didn't sound angry anymore, just resigned and unhappy. "Mai," he said, taking my arm, "please, consider the cost of what you're doing. To the world and yourself. Murdering another person will only make you smaller."

I pulled away.

"Is that what your journeys to the Spirit World have told you?"

"That," he said, "and common sense. You and Aang should not be killers."

"Then Azula shouldn't have killed the people we love."

"Mai," he said gently, "is it really Aang who wants this?"

"It was his idea. Who else?"

"The spirits won't speak to me," Iroh said, "but I hear whispers nonetheless. Be careful of him, Mai." He squeezed my hand. "I will miss you."

We left at dawn the next day. No one came to see us off.


	10. Chapter 10

**Aang**

We flew south to the tiny island where Mai's family had an estate. Most of the servants had followed the family to Omashu, she said, and the few that remained had doted on her since she was a baby.

It wasn't a big island, but from the airship I could see a town and a handful of villages. Mai's home overlooked a lake in a lush, green valley.

"This place is beautiful," I told her as we landed.

"It's literally the most tedious place in the Fire Nation," she said. "I doubt Azula even remembers it exists."

"Sure is quiet. Where is everyone?"

"I don't know," said Mai, looking around. We had seen peasants tilling the fields her family owned, but now we were in the courtyard of her house, and there was no one around. Not even a hare-dog barked. There were weeds growing between the flagstones.

We had to break into the house. Inside, all the furniture was covered, and there were gaps on shelves where ornaments had stood.

"This is really creepy," I said, following Mai through room after room.

She led me to a room overlooking the courtyard. "This is our steward's office," she said. "He served our family since my dad was a kid. And," she found a ledger, "he kept meticulous records."

According to Wei's notes, late last summer, about a month before the Comet had arrived, he had packed up the house, dismissed the servants, and taken himself - and a lot of money - to the Fire Nation colony at Mount Sozin, in the eastern Earth Kingdom.

"What?" I said. "Why then?"

"Because that was when I became a traitor," said Mai. "I guess my parents decided to cut their losses." She closed the ledger and walked away, leaving clouds of dust in her wake.

The next day we started our preparations in earnest. We spent our mornings training in the courtyard. Mai prepared a map of the royal palace and its grounds and drilled me on it in the afternoons, until I could find my way blindfolded to the Fire Lord's private apartments. In the evenings we ran laps around the lake and swam.

"This is nice," I said, watching the sun go down.

Mai was sitting on the dock, her feet dangling in the water, sharpening her knives. "This was where my parents sent me when I was being _difficult_," she said, not looking up. "I spent a few years here, after my betrothal to Zuko was ended."

"I didn't know you two were engaged."

"We weren't. Not after Ozai became Fire Lord." Scrap, scrape, scrape went the metal on the whetstone. "Suddenly Zuko was the crown prince. He couldn't marry a non-bender. So my father came home one day and said he was very sorry, but I would have to marry someone else."

"You must have been nine years old!"

"Eleven. I'm a year older than Zuko. Was. A year older." She frowned a little, but it might have been at her knife. "I guess I took it pretty hard. My parents sent me here to live with my grandmother. I missed a couple of years of school, so when I came back, I was in a class with Azula. They probably planned it that way."

"Did you like living with your grandmother?"

"She was a hateful old bitch, but at least she was honest. And she taught me how to fight."

Mai took aim and let the blade fly. It buried itself in the neck of a lizard-fox, killing it instantly. I made a little noise in the back of my throat. Mai turned back to look at me.

"You're preparing to kill a fifteen year old girl, and you're worried about a lizard-fox?" She shook her head and went inside.

That night I dreamed that I was looking down at a boy begging for mercy. I woke up with his scream still ringing in my ears.

I went to find Mai.

She was in her old room, curled on her side with her back to the door. The room was full of heavy wooden boxes: her possessions from the house in the city, boxed up and sent here after her arrest.

"Mai," I said, "are you awake?"

She stiffened, but said, "Yes."

"Were you there when Zuko's father burned him?"

She rolled over to face me.

"Everyone was there," she said, sitting up. "Who wouldn't want to watch a thirteen-year-old boy being humiliated by his dad? Azula made sure I was there."

I sat down on her bed.

"I have these dreams," I said. "Or memories. But not my memories. Where I'm a man, looking at Azula or Zuko through a wall of flames. Or I'm a kid, looking up at Iroh. I keep dreaming that I'm Ozai, and _I can't stop_."

It was too dark to see Mai's face. She said, "When you took Ozai's bending … something came with it?"

"I don't know," I said. "I thought it would fade, but they're getting worse."

Mai was silent. What could she say?

"There's one other thing," I added. "I wonder - I'm worried - what if killing Azula is what Ozai wants me to do?"

"You think he's controlling you?"

"It's not like that," I said. "And I know she was his favourite. But he was furious when he found out she'd lied about me being dead, and I think, if Ozai thought Azula was in his way..."

I couldn't finish.

Eventually Mai fell into an uneasy sleep, but I stayed awake through the night, listening to her breathe and trying not to remember my dreams.


	11. Chapter 11

**Azula**

The flames were blinding.

Sweat dripped down my face, my neck and my chest, but I kept my back straight and my stance firm. Chan Li, behind me, rested his hands on my hips, ready to catch me if I passed out, but I concentrated on my breathing and remained upright. It was a bad omen to faint, and I had too much to lose.

"Spirits of sun, fire and light," intoned the Chief Sage, "imbue this royal child with your strength, so that he may one day take his mother's place as Fire Lord."

The flames rose higher. The Sage anointed me with sandalwood oil: on my forehead, between my breasts, on my belly. He kept his gaze respectfully low, but I was acutely aware that I was naked to the waist and encumbered by pregnancy, and surrounded by men.

The scent of the oil mixed with the incense, making it difficult to read. Chan Li's grip on my hips tightened. Pointless. If I passed out, his injuries would keep him from catching me. And the rumour would spread that the Fire Lord had fallen, like a peasant, and all our work would be for nothing.

"A son," said the old man who, the sage claimed, could see the future in the flames. "A son for Fire Lord Azula and Prince Chan Li. He will rule with wisdom, and bring justice and honour to the Fire Nation."

The sages resumed their chant, the names of the spirits and my ancestors.

What a farce. When my mother performed this ceremony for the first time, the very same sage had promised a long life of great honour for Zuko. It was a matter of public record. I had read the scrolls last night. A life of service to the Fire Nation for Zuko, a successful marriage and many children for me.

Mother had been eighteen when Zuko was born. Li and Lo had promised I would be a mother shortly after my sixteenth birthday.

A farce.

The sages were recounting the achievements of Azulon. Not much longer to go. I could feel Chan Li shaking, weakened by the heat and his injuries. A poisoned arrow had landed in his shoulder three weeks ago, striking in the very pavilion where we had formed our alliance. The archer swallowed the same poison before my guards found her. I had personally overseen the interrogation of the servants who aided the assassin.

It had been three days before the royal physicians had managed to identify the poison and apply the antidote. I remembered a meal I had shared with my father on one of those evenings.

He said, "I hear Chan Li calls for you."

"He calls," I said, "but he doesn't recognise me."

"But it's touching, don't you think? A man is truly honest at moments like this." There was amusement in Father's eyes. "I know you find it difficult to trust people, Azula."

Father hadn't visited Chan Li's sickroom. Someone must have carried the report of his fever cries, just as someone carried a report of our amicable marital alliance.

"If I have problems with trust," I said, "then I learned my lessons well."

I replaced the servants and threatened the physicians, but I couldn't be everywhere at once. Not in the palace. Not in the Fire Nation.

There was sweat running down my back, pooling at the base of my spine. Just a few more minutes, then I could bathe and dress and sit. Just. A bit.

Longer.

Between one breath and the next, the world changed. Instead of the Fire Temple, I was standing on a rocky shore, looking out to sea.

No.

Not again.

It had been months since I had seen things that weren't there. I worked and meditated, and spent my nights with Chan Li, and I was _much too strong_ to let this happen again.

"Azula."

The man behind me was old, and oddly familiar, though I was certain I'd never seen him before. He wore the hairpiece of a crown prince of the Fire Nation, which had been lost for four generations.

"Azula," he repeated, "you must be careful-"

"No," I snapped. "No, I won't go back to that."

"Great-granddaughter-"

"No."

I moved to burn him, but there was no fire. I froze, horrified and afraid. Was this what had happened to Father? I stepped back, and stumbled on a loose rock, and -

Chan Li caught me as I swayed.

When the ritual was over I bathed myself in cold water, scrubbing myself raw to get rid of the last fragments of sweat and oil and incense. I took my time dressing, but I let the servants do my hair.

Chan Li and the Chief Sage waited for me in the temple's ancient library. Chan Li gave me a curious look as I entered, but he didn't say anything about my earlier lapse. The Sage bowed and scraped and didn't seem to have noticed anything at all.

"Fire Lord," he said, taking his place behind the desk and unfurling a scroll, "my prince. In light of the attempt on Prince Chan Li's life last month, it might be wise to consider, hmm, an exigency plan for the upbringing of the royal children. Should something happen to his parents."

"The attempt didn't succeed," said Chan Li mildly.

"This one didn't," said the Sage. "Who knows what treason is being plotted?"

"Yes," I said, "who does know?"

The Sage blinked. I smiled. He cultivated an image of being too concerned with spiritual matters to bother with worldly politics, but I knew he had transferred his allegiance to my father long before Azulon's death. Long ago, the Fire Lords themselves had been the Chief Sages, and before that, my ancestors had dedicated their lives to the service of the temples and the spirits. I couldn't look at a Fire Sage without thinking that, in another life, that might have been me.

"Tell me," I said, "who would you recommend to raise a poor orphaned prince?"

("Three guesses," Chan Li had told me that morning, "and the first two don't count.")

"Why, your father, of course."

Chan Li caught my eye. His jaw was set.

"Lord Ozai is still a young man, and who better to raise your child? He had two children of his own-"

The Sage faltered. I raised my eyebrows.

"Yes?" I asked.

"And you could not ask for a more experienced regent."

"No. I suppose I couldn't."

The Sage pushed the scroll towards me. It was an act of succession, naming my child as my heir and first Chan Li, then my father, as regent in the event of my early death.

I signed it with my own hand, using all my names and titles.

"You may as well have signed our death warrants," said Chan Li, as the palanquin carried us back to the palace.

"There was no other candidate." The swaying of the palanquin was making me nauseous. I concentrated on my breathing. "It's simple. Try and avoid assassins."

"I try," he said, "but lately they seem to be seeking me out." He hesitated. "Azula?"

"What?"

"Never mind. It can wait."

He broached the subject of my _episode_ that evening after dinner. We were alone in the library reserved for the royal family, Chan Li reading military reports, I perusing intelligence dossiers and pointedly ignoring the book of traditional wisdom for expectant mothers that Li and Lo had left out. It would have been a charming domestic scene, except that I kept feeling Chan Li's eyes on me when he thought I was distracted.

I said, "If you have something to say, you should spit it out. Or at least stop staring."

"You nearly fainted today."

"I lost my balance. I don't _faint_."

"You went limp. It was like you weren't even in your body."

I read the same character three times. When the silence had stretched to breaking point I said, "I lost my balance."

Chan Li nodded, and I let him change the subject.

I was reluctant to sleep that night. I used to sleep deeply, and never remembered my dreams. Then the Comet came, and something inside of me seemed to break. Sometimes it was a struggle just to pass for my normal self.

I had thought I was getting better.

_Great-granddaughter_, the man had called me. My great-grandfather was Sozin the Conquerer. One of my great-grandfathers.

Chan Li didn't stir as I got out of bed.

The palace library was not as exhaustive as the Fire Sage's halls of histories, but it held a copy of the family records. My great-grandfathers were Fire Lord Sozin, Lord Hsiao, Lord Ueda and -

Nothing.

Dad never slept much at all. I found him sitting in his rooms, staring into the fire. His face was in shadow.

"Azula? You should be resting."

"Was my maternal grandmother illegitimate?" I asked.

He laughed at me.

"Like you, she was the daughter of a traitor," he said. "Fire Lord Sozin had his name struck from the records. As if that would make people forget Avatar Roku ever existed."

"Avatar Roku."

There was a sick ache in my chest. Something flickered at the edge of my vision, and it took all my control to keep from turning to look at it.

"Your brother inherited the traitor's blood, too. Watch out." Father reached out, resting his hand on my belly. "Children will inevitably disappoint you, Azula."

There was contempt in his voice. Because I, a woman and his child, had all the power he wanted and could never have again. Because I was my mother's daughter as well as his, and he had despised my mother as surely as she had feared me.

He had taught me to be fearsome. From the moment my bending had manifested when I was three, setting Mom's clothes and hair on fire as she tried to discipline me, he had claimed me for himself. His tool. His weapon. As powerful and worthless as a pai sho tile.

I had spent my life trying to please him. I had killed my brother. In his eyes, I was nothing.

He was watching me. I pasted a smile on my face and bowed.

"Good night, Dad." I kissed him on the cheek, like I was six years old again. "I'll see you in the morning."


	12. Chapter 12

**Mai**

Someone was crying.

For a second I lay awake in the dark, not sure where I was. Solitary confinement, in Princess Ursa's rooms with Zuko dying in my arms, Iroh's apartment: I was everywhere at once, paralysed, listening to those eerie cries.

I forced myself to breathe.

When I had control of my body at last, I went to find Aang.

He was up by then, rinsing his face in the fountain in the courtyard.

"Hey," I said.

He put his head under the water then stood up. Rivulets trickled down his scalp, shining in the moonlight.

"I couldn't make it stop," he said.

"You're awake," I pointed out, sitting on the edge of the fountain and watching him bend the water.

"We should train."

"Sunrise is hours away."

Aang opened his fingers and the water he was bending turned into shards of ice that embedded themselves in my grandmother's prized fig tree.

"My ice against your sword," he said.

It wasn't like I was going to get more sleep anyway.

We pitted ourselves against each other until we were too exhausted to see straight. The sun was high when we stumbled inside. I collapsed beside Aang on his futon, aware that I was sweaty and disgusting but far beyond caring. We slept until evening and we didn't dream. When we woke up, we ate and then we started again.

By the time we left for the capital Aang could use airbending to direct a knife I had thrown, and I had become adept at using my sword to block frontal firebending assaults. We had memorised the layout of the major service tunnels that ran beneath the palace, and I had schooled Aang in basic court etiquette.

As the ferry pulled away from the dock and my family's estate vanished behind us, I said, "What about Ozai?"

Aang adjusted the broad peasant hat that hid his tattoos and said, "What about him?"

The ferry was the new kind with a loud steam engine, and we were well away from the other passengers, but I still leaned in to whisper, "Killing Azula and leaving her father alive is shortsighted."

Aang looked uncertain. "But without his bending-"

"You benders think that's all that matters. He'll just have more kids."

"I came to take care of Azula, not to kill more people."

"Fine," I said, "I'll deal with Ozai."

I watched to see his reaction, but for once his face was totally unreadable.

In some ways, the strangest thing about going back to the capital was how little it had changed. The old quarter was a maze of alleys and narrow streets lined with hawkers, widening out and becoming less crowded as you reached the middle class areas. When we were younger, Azula used to challenge us to find her something in the bazaar: a trinket, a forbidden book, a cheap forgery of an Air Nomad artifact. I developed a taste for street food and once Ty Lee kissed a boy who sold pork buns.

I was just remembering the taste of spicy fried popiah and wondering if I could find a place that sold it, when Aang grabbed my arm.

"Look."

Standing at the corner was a pair of Dai Li agents, their green uniforms a vivid contrast to the reds and blacks around them. The crowds gave them a wide berth. I heard an old man with one arm, wearing a frayed uniform thirty years out of date, mutter something about Earth Kingdom infiltrators, but he, too, avoided their gazes.

I forced myself to walk naturally, Aang at my side, everyday Fire Nation people going about their business.

But now that I'd seen the Dai Li, I was looking at the crowds with new eyes. We were the only able-bodied teenagers here. In fact, I saw no one under forty who wasn't missing a limb or was otherwise injured in some way. And the stalls were shabbier than I remembered, their wares more sparse. Maybe it was just that I'd been a kid when I came here before, and now I was a cynical adult, but I didn't think so. Even the food stands looked empty, although it was late morning and they should have still been full. And a few years ago, there had been soldiers here, mostly domestic forces, maintaining law and order.

I looked back at the top of the street. The Dai Li agents had moved on.

"That happen often?" I asked a man selling tarnished hairpieces.

"Domestic forces were sent to the front," he said. "Now we have foreigners on the streets." He squinted at us, taking in our tanned skin and worn clothes. "You in from the colonies?"

"Outer archipelago."

"Take care. General Shin's not too choosy about how he gets his recruits. Press gang'd get good money for you and your brother." He gestured vaguely in the direction of some graffiti that promised a dawn after the darkness. "Be careful."

"Thanks."

I paid him for a tin hairpiece. A few blocks later I gave it to a little girl whose mother was selling spotty dragonfruit and led Aang down a lane that smelled of rotting fish.

"This was a better area eighty years ago," I told him, struggling with the old metal door. "Kitchen staff at the palace used to buy food for the Fire Lord's table here." Giving up, I stepped back and let Aang take over. "The palace stewards didn't want them walking all over the city, so they had tunnels built." The door buckled under Aang's metalbending, giving us a small opening through which we could enter. "This leads to the old kitchens."

Aang nodded, smoothing out the door behind us. A flame sprang to life in his hand, illuminating the half-smile on his face.

"Let's go," he said.


	13. Chapter 13

**Azula**

For almost a week I didn't dare sleep, lying rigid in my bed until the palace was still then going down to the arena to train and meditate until my mind was blank. When Chan Li asked if I was all right, I banished him to the consort's chambers; when Li and Lo tried to tell me that certain firebending katas were dangerous to pregnant women, I lost my temper and sent them away to Ember Island.

After that no one spoke to me unless I addressed them first. It was wonderfully quiet except for the voices that whispered on the edge of my perception.

One night, instead of meditating, I went down to the Fire Temple to stand before the family shrine. Sozin, Azulon, all my ancestors watched and judged me.

There was no memorial to my mother. It was her fault that I was like this, weak and mad and angry. She had killed Azulon to protect precious Zuzu, then left me.

Not that I had ever wanted her there, of course.

I didn't know the first thing about being a mother, but at least I wouldn't be so cowardly as to fear my own child.

Eventually my nocturnal wanderings brought me to my throne room. I fed the flames until they were high and hot, then sat before them, the throne to my back, listening to the fire's call.

When I opened my eyes, I was somewhere else.

I climbed to my feet, shaking out the sand from my robes. The old man was watching me. Curled around both of us was a great red dragon. I had never seen one alive before, if it could be said to be alive at all. It was alien and glorious.

"I know who you are," I told the old man. "Avatar Roku."

I didn't bow. But neither did he. We regarded each other, while the wind blew and his dragon watched.

"Am I going mad?" I asked.

"What do you think?"

"Sometimes I hear and see things that aren't there. They tell me things that I don't want to be true. And other times I panic and think everyone around me wants me dead. Of course," I struggled to maintain a casual tone, "lots of people do want me dead. Including my father, I think, but he's waiting." I shrugged. "I don't feel things the way other people do. I killed my cousin's hare-dog. I killed my brother. I probably would have killed my mother, but Dad got there first." I watched Roku, daring him to react. "I suppose I'm a monster."

"Maybe," he said. "You remind me of Sozin sometimes. But you look like Ta Min. You have a little of her spirit." He smiled. "And my stubbornness, I'm afraid. The people I loved the most live on in you. You were raised a monster, but your choices will determine your fate."

"You sound like my uncle. How do I know I'm not talking to another hallucination?"

"Your mother is alive. Ozai sent her to an island in the Northern Archipelago, near the old Sun Warrior city. It doesn't have a name. It's not on the maps." He reached out to touch my hand, then, thinking better of it, stopped. "Your father has lied to you most of your life. Do you want to be his tool forever?"

"I don't know any other way to be," I admitted.

"I know."

His dragon moved, its vast head coming towards me. I thought he was going to eat me, but I stood my ground, and instead, one of his whiskers touched my forehead and I was -

- I was a sixteen-year-old boy, and the Sages were telling me I was the Avatar. I was a middle-aged man, destroying the Fire Lord's palace in a rage, and he looked up at me and saw in me every Avatar who had ever lived, and he was so very small and pathetic. I was an old man, and the Fire Lord was watching me die, and I was choking on the volcanic gas, scrabbling in the dirt as my body failed, and I knew I had made a grave mistake, but -

I dropped to my knees as the dragon released me, breathing deeply until I had control of myself again.

"This situation is as much my fault as Sozin's," Roku said. "I'm sorry."

Eventually I realised I was alone again, and I was crouched on the sand in the dark. I struggled back to my feet, acutely conscious that there was no fire within me.

The moon rose.

With its light came a spirit. It looked like a woman my age or a little older, with white hair and the barbarian features of the Water Tribe. She walked towards me, her feet never touching the ground. Her face was cold.

"My brother has claimed you for himself," she said, "and I'm forbidden to hurt you. But you killed Katara of the Water Tribe, and I can't forgive that."

My feet were wet. The tide was coming in, but it was too fast to be natural. I tried to move, but the spirit blocked my way, and the water was pulling me down.

"Look," the spirit ordered.

I was looking at myself, but it was myself - had that only been a year ago? Hunched on the ground, eyes wide and teeth bared, Comet-fuelled fire burning wild around her.

"No lightning today?" Zuko taunted her. "What's the matter? Afraid I'll redirect it?"

"Oh," she said, "I'll show you lightning."

She took her stance, but she looked past Zuko, at me.

Too late I realised what the spirit had done.

Zuko screamed and moved, but he was too slow to meet the lightning that arced towards me. It took me in the chest, and I screamed. It was the worst pain imaginable, but still my hands moved for the water-skin at my hip, my trembling fingers reaching for the cap.

Zuko was too distracted to direct the next blast. He was knocked out, but I still had one last ounce of energy. I could still fight. I could still -

Strong hands took me from Katara's body as she died. I couldn't understand why I was crying, but my rescuer held me against his chest and patted my back as I sobbed. I should have despised it, and myself, but I could hardly feel anything except a profound sense of grief and shame, a hollow space inside me that I could never fill. The knowledge of actions I could never undo.

When I was calm at last, I opened my eyes and looked up at my uncle.

"Are you dead, then?" I asked in as disdainful a tone as I could manage.

"I've been looking for you," he said. "Azula, my niece, you're in very great danger. The Avatar is trying to kill you."

"Then you should be happy," I told him, shrugging away his hands and standing up. "Zuko's dead so _now_ you'll pay attention to me? Is that what it takes, Uncle?"

"Spirits can't see the future," he said, as if I hadn't spoken, "but some have watched humanity for a long time, long enough to recognise shapes and patterns. If Aang kills you, it will trigger another escalation in the war. And with the Avatar himself leading the armies, it won't end until the world itself has been destroyed. If you kill him - the same."

"Oh, good. For a minute there I thought you cared about me in my own right."

"Is that what you want?"

I hesitated. "No," I said. "It's too late for that."

"You're right," said Iroh. "But I feel I bear some responsibility for what you've become. Had I been a better uncle to you, Zuko might still be alive."

"Don't flatter yourself. You were never that important to me."

"Be careful, Azula. The spirits are watching you, and that's not always a safe or comfortable thing."

He bowed to me, as a subject bows to his Fire Lord.

"Be careful," he repeated. "They're coming. Try," he hesitated, "try to show mercy."

Then the world dissolved, and I was sitting on the floor before my throne, a guard kneeling before me while one of his comrades nervously reached to touch my shoulder.

"Don't touch me," I snapped, standing up.

"Fire Lord," said the soldier, bowing, "an attempt has been made on your father's life." He stood up, gesturing at the doors. My father marched in, unharmed, followed by my husband. Then a squad of soldiers marched in and threw the prisoner to the ground.

She was bound, a blood stained bandage on her leg, but there was no fear in Mai's face as she looked up at me.


	14. Chapter 14

**Mai**

It all went wrong after we discovered Azula was pregnant.

Aang and I argued, pacing the length of the long-abandoned storage room we'd claimed for ourselves.

"I want to wait," he said.

"It's not like being a mom will magically make her a better person."

Aang's jaw set. "I can't kill a child."

"Wow, Aang, that's really sweet. Are you going to take out Azula right after she gives birth, or will you wait until the kid's walking?"

"Could you do it?" he asked.

I turned away.

"This is Ozai's grandchild," I pointed out. "If Azula dies, he'll probably be its regent. At the very least, he'll have a hand in raising it, and this will start all over again."

"You just want to kill Ozai."

"Yeah. I do."

I turned back to watch him as he sat on a barrel, his head in his hands. He seemed like an ordinary kid, if ordinary kids planned political murders. But there were moments where I saw something else in his eyes, or someone else, and it scared me.

In the end, I went out alone.

Between midnight and the hour before dawn, the palace was still and silent. The smallest noise would have alerted the guards, but I was very quiet. And I remembered the servants' route into Ozai's chambers from my previous escape.

He was asleep, bare chest rising and falling with every breath. He looked so much like Zuko that for a second I couldn't breathe, but I forced myself to advance. Standing over him, I drew my sword.

And stopped.

It should have been easy. This was the man who had scarred and banished Zuko, who had created Azula. And I had spent years teaching myself not to feel. Spent hours persuading Aang that this was necessary, that it would be easy.

I was so, so stupid. I wasn't a killer, not the cold-blooded kind. Maybe if he was attacking me. Maybe if I was in danger.

Ozai opened his eyes.

For a second, he looked disbelieving. I thought he might laugh.

I should have done it then.

Before I could react, he threw me back against the wall. I had my darts in my hand, but the impact sent them awry. One embedded itself in Ozai's shoulder.

"You're as stupid as my son," he said.

I pulled myself to my feet and raised my sword, but he already had a weapon to hand, something like a very small cannon. I took a step forward. He fired.

I bit my lip as my right leg exploded in white pain, but I stayed on my feet.

"Is that - the best - you can do?" I asked, struggling for breath. "Typical bender - arrogant - Zuko could have done better-"

He needed to reload. My blades were ready. I took aim just as the guards burst in and pinned me to the floor.

That sent another wave of dizzying pain through my leg. I felt weirdly distant as the guards hauled me to my feet, bound me and led me towards the prison.

"No," I heard Ozai say, "take her to the throne room. Let my daughter see what her friend has done."

Just outside the throne room doors, someone called, "Stop!"

Ozai said, "This isn't your concern, Prince Chan Li."

"No? A trail of blood leading to the throne room struck me as very concerning. So to speak. Who is it?" Firmly, but not roughly, he raised my head.

"The Lady Mai," one of the guards told him. "She escaped from prison last summer. I guess she's been hiding in the palace all this time, waiting for a chance to attack Lord Ozai."

"Maybe," said the prince. He took my sword from the guard. "Isn't this Master Piandao's work?"

"It's mine." My voice was slurred. "He was my master."

"It's beautiful workmanship. And the knives, too." He took my wrist holster from another guard. "Assassin's weapons. It's a shame you weren't better." My eyes widened slightly. He gave me a flicker of a smile. Turning back to the guards, he said, "Has the Fire Lord been told?"

"She's in the throne room," said another guard, approaching and kneeling. "Captain Yun is trying to wake her."

Chan Li's jaw set, and he exchanged a wary glance with Ozai.

"Clean her up," the prince said. "And treat that wound before she bleeds out."

He turned to enter the throne room, but Ozai caught his arm and swung him around.

"You realise, of course, that Azula planned this," I heard Ozai say, but then a medic began treating my leg, and the pain overtook my desire to eavesdrop.

"You've lost a lot of blood," said the medic, wrapping a tight bandage around my leg, "but the bullet didn't hit any bones or major arteries." He gave me a sympathetic look. "Sorry. Bleeding to death is probably better than what you'll get."

Once more I was pulled upright and marched into the throne room. I saw Azula's silhouette through the flames, made alien and distorted by her pregnancy. I forced myself to look up, and tried to fake a bravado I didn't really feel.

The flames parted and Azula advanced towards me. She was in her sleeping robes, with her hair down, and I wondered for the first time why she had taken to sleeping in the throne room.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw the soldiers back away from her.

"Tell me what happened," she said.

"Your plan failed, Azula," said Ozai. "Your assassin hesitated."

"_My_ assassin?" Azula's gaze was distant, and the slight crease between her eyebrows deepened. She turned her back on her father and looked back at me. "Where's the Avatar?" she demanded.

There was a worried murmur around us, and Prince Chan Li said, "Azula, our last reports put the Avatar in Ba Sing Se."

"He's here." She pulled me to my feet. "Uncle said they were coming. You and the Avatar, right? Who else?" One hand closed around my windpipe. The other cupped a white-blue flame. "His friends? Ty Lee?"

She let go of me. I started to fall, but Chan Li caught me, restraining my arms but holding me upright.

"Tell me," Azula ordered.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said. "I came alone."

"Liar."

"I came alone," I repeated. "I was going to kill Ozai, then you. I didn't tell anyone where I was going." I gave her a smile that I hoped was cynical and knowing. "They probably would have stopped me."

"_Liar_." Azula's cry echoed through the throne room. In the awkward silence that followed, I could hear her knuckles crack as she wrung her hands. With a visible effort, she folded her hands into her sleeves and said, "I know the Avatar is coming. Now. Tell me the truth."

"Azula," said the prince carefully, "how do you know?"

She ignored him.

"My uncle wants me to show him mercy," she told me, "but first, I want the Avatar to look me in the face. So tell me where he is."

"Azula," the prince began, "Fire Lord."

Ozai said, "She's lost her mind. The taint of her mother's blood-"

Azula trembled. Her lips might have wobbled, or it might have been a trick of the firelight. I thought of those nights Iroh spent meditating. His journey into the Spirit World.

"-and set up a regency," Ozai was saying, "until this country can have a true leader again."

"With you as its head?" Chan Li demanded, pushing me towards another guard. "A father who scars and banishes his son has no business leading a nation-"

"How dare you speak of that?"

"Silence!" Azula screamed, and her fire whip scorched through the air. "You'll have to kill me before you take my throne-"

"That can be arranged," said Ozai.

There was a whisper of wind above us, but I was the only one who heard it. I held my breath, resisting the urge to look up.

"The physicians can confine you until your child is born," Ozai was saying. "I only hope your madness isn't passed on to the next generation."

"Treason, Lord Ozai?" asked the prince. "If you're lucky, maybe the Fire Lord will just banish you."

"My mother," said Azula suddenly. "You sent her to an island in the northern archipelago."

Ozai flinched. He didn't say anything, but his surprise and fear were plain on his face.

"You told me she was dead!" Azula looked around, eyes wide. "Come out," she said, looking up, "let's end this."

I heard one of the guards mutter, "Maybe she is crazy."

Then Aang descended from the shadows.


	15. Chapter 15

**Aang**

Guards scattered as I jumped down from the high ledge. Some moved to protect Azula, others to her father. But they all stopped as I landed.

I wasn't used to being feared, and I didn't like it. But as I raised earth to hold the firebenders, and spun cocoons of ice to hold Azula's Dai Li agents, I realised it was useful. Fear made them hesitate. They second-guessed themselves.

They were too slow.

Azula's husband moved in time to blast a fireball through the stone that was consuming his feet, but a gust of wind slammed him back against the gilt-painted wall, and I used the metal to bind his arms and feet.

Then it was just me, Azula and Ozai.

I met his gaze. He tried to smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. Ozai was scared of me, too.

Azula, on the other hand -

I had wanted her to be a monster, and maybe she was, but she was also just a girl, not much older than me, with messy hair and shadows under her eyes.

I remember how monstrous and powerful Zuko had seemed when we first met, until he took off his mask and I realised he was just a teenager with a scar and a mission.

"I came to kill you," I told her.

"So do it."

She spread her arms, daring me.

I said, "The world can never have balance while you're alive."

"If it makes you feel better, Avatar. Look, I won't even defend myself. I'm as helpless as Zuzu was."

"He was a better person than you."

She shrugged. "Whatever."

I had wanted to take the very air from her lungs, but I couldn't make myself move. Everyone was watching us.

"Give me a reason not to," I said.

There was movement in the corner of my eye, Ozai picking up Mai's forgotten sword. He rushed at us. At Azula.

"No!" she screamed, blocking him with a wall of flame, and I did the same, my orange fire merging with her blue, until it burned white-hot, alive and amazing.

From the fire emerged a human figure.

It looked like a man made of flames, but he was taller than a man could be, and he shone with the light of the sun. Squinting at him through my fingers, I could distinguish facial features, but they were changing every second. One moment he looked like Ozai, the next Iroh. Then I thought he looked a little like Roku, or maybe the chief of the Sun Warriors.

The Sun Spirit.

I prostrated myself before him, and let the stone and ice prisons holding the guards collapse. Ozai let Mai's sword fall to the floor with a loud clang. His knees gave out, and he fell to the floor as the spirit approached.

The spirit reached for him.

Ozai's scream echoed through the room. It felt like the whole world was on fire, and beside me I heard Azula moan with pleasure.

When I opened my eyes, nothing remained of Ozai. The spirit was gazing down at me.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

_You have erred, Avatar_. He didn't speak. It was more like wildfire roaring in my mind. He cupped my head, and for a second I burned. I could feel something detaching inside me, a darkness I'd carried for a year.

_Now you are free_, he said, letting go.

I collapsed onto my hands and knees, feeling dizzy. The Spirit had taken that last fragment of Ozai away, but he couldn't take my choices. He couldn't take my guilt.

He turned to Azula.

"No!"

Her husband threw himself between her and the spirit. A flaming hand pressed against his chest, and I wanted to look away, but I couldn't.

But he didn't die. Instead, the Sun Spirit laughed, and pushed him gently aside.

Azula stood up. I didn't know if she was reaching for the Sun, or if he was reaching for her, but her face was alight with hope and madness.

The spirit engulfed her for a moment, and shone even brighter.

Then it vanished, leaving Azula behind.


	16. Chapter 16

_Note_: so apparently 's amazing new trick is not saving the change when you add a horizontal line at the end of a chapter. THANKS, , THAT'S GREAT. YOUR ONGOING WAR ON PUNCTUATION IS REALLY FANTASTIC. Not that it makes any difference to you as a reader; I just like to be consistent.

**Azula**

I was outside of my body, watching myself collapse. Around me guards were weeping, or fleeing, or pointlessly firebending into the empty darkness. The Avatar got to his feet, pulling Mai towards him, his expression unreadable. Chan Li was the only one who knelt by my body, but I was too far away to hear what he said.

_Come_, said the Sun Spirit, and he took me to a place where his light warmed ancient volcanic rocks and dragons circled in the sky overhead. I had never been here, but it was familiar nonetheless.

_Daughter_, he said.

He spoke like it was a skill he had almost forgotten. My education had dealt with practical things, not spirits, but he seemed like a being who had once been human, or human-like. Long ago, maybe. A Sage had once told me that no mortal knew the Sun Spirit's name; it had been lost to history after he abandoned this world and left humans to fend for themselves.

_My sister is displeased with you._

"Your sister," I said. "The moon?"

_You killed her child._

"I know."

_And mine._

"Zuko?"

_He was to redeem the honour of the Fire Nation._

"He was weak," I said, but it was an old line, and I found that my heart wasn't in it anymore.

_He possessed strength you will never know, daughter. Yours is a dragon-soul. _He reached out, cupping my face in his hands. _I have taken your father from this world, Azula Dragon-heart_, he said. _Now you can be free._

He kissed me on the lips, and my body exploded with heat.

_Look_, he said.

I was outside of myself again, but it was a different Azula, screaming and crying as they took her away and locked her up. My brother took my crown and declared the war over, and I was far, far away, trapped in my own mind. Speaking to people who weren't there, afraid of the dark, afraid of myself.

"I don't want to see this," I said.

_Look_, the Spirit repeated.

My brother visited me, and I voiced every cruel thought I had ever had. And still he came. He brought me my mother, and she wouldn't leave either, and she brought healers from all over the world, and I laughed at them while they tried to fix me.

But I was no longer afraid.

And I got older, and calmer, so my mother brought me home. They still feared me in the palace, and Zuko came to me and said we could use that. I laughed at him, but it was work, and I was no longer a princess, but I still had my honour. So I served the Fire Nation, and I could sleep at night, and my brother and Mai raised their children and spent time with their friends, and I was -

Free.

"It's just a story. None of that happened."

_We called it destiny. Now learn._

He put his hand over my heart.

One hundred years of war. All those deaths. Children without parents, parents without children. Spirits destroyed as their homes were converted to factories or turned into chemical swamps. An armada was wiped out by the Ocean Spirit in retribution for the murder of the moon. A village was burned to the ground because the soldiers didn't like the way an old man looked at them. The flames rose higher, engulfing me. I felt every death and every moment of despair. My chest ached with it. My fists clenched, and I felt blood well up in my palms where my nails pierced the skin. My throat was tight, and I wondered if this was what it was like to be poisoned.

I gasped, "Is this supposed to teach me compassion?"

The Sun Spirit looked puzzled, like he didn't understand the word.

_Justice_, he said.

I was falling through space, aware of every living being in the world, conscious of every death.

"Is this how a spirit feels?" I asked.

_Yes_.

"Am I mad?"

An intangible hand cupped my cheek.

_A mortal might call it an illness. It takes you far away from me. You have been ill. Now you can heal._

"Teach me."

_What do you wish to learn?_

I reached for him.

"Everything," I said.


	17. Chapter 17

**Mai**

"What happened?" I asked as Aang pulled me to my feet. He shook his head, not dismissing my question but unable to put an answer into words. I didn't mind. I felt tired and empty, not despairing, just too weary to feel.

Azula lay on the floor, her eyes open and her face blank. Chan Li knelt over her, taking her pulse.

I asked, "Is she-"

"It's like she's somewhere else." Her hand looked small in his. He raised it to his lips, his other hand on her belly.

"She's in the Spirit World," Aang said.

"Can you bring her back?"

"I don't know." Aang leaned forward, laying his hands on her head, chest, solar plexus, belly. Chan Li frowned, but said nothing. "Her chakras are flowing. I think if the Sun Spirit wanted to hurt her, he'd have destroyed her like Ozai." He settled back into the lotus position and closed his eyes.

"If she dies," Chan Li told me, "I'll have both of you executed."

"I know."

Aang's tattoos glowed for a second, illuminating the room like lightning. Then they faded and he opened his eyes, breathing heavily.

"She's with the Sun Spirit," he said, standing up. "He won't let me near her. He said one word. 'Wait.'"

Chan Li climbed to his feet and lifted Azula.

"You," he said to one of the few remaining guards. ""Take the Fire Lord to her chambers. Summon the physicians and the Chief Sage."

"My prince, the Spirit-"

"She's alive," he said, putting her in the guard's arms. "See that she stays that way."

He watched as Azula was carried away. Then he turned to us. I realised I was clutching Aang's hand.

We looked at each other in silence for a few moments. Then the prince said to me, "You're not bleeding anymore."

I looked down, and realised for the first time that I was no longer in pain. The bloody bandages had fallen away, revealing the torn clothing beneath, but there was no wound.

"Fire is life," said Aang quietly.

"Captain Hyun," said the prince to an Imperial firebender, "take a squadron and a war balloon, and escort the Avatar and his companion to Ba Sing Se."

"My prince-"

"You'll leave within the hour. See that they arrive unharmed."

The captain bowed.

"You could have had us executed," said Aang. "I wouldn't be the first Avatar killed that way."

"What purpose would that serve?" asked Chan Li. "Your people would retaliate, and we'd be back where we were a week ago. Only worse."

He retrieved my weapons and presented them to me with a sardonic little bow.

"I always wanted to study under Master Piandao," he said. "I hope one day he can return from his exile."

Feeling surreal, I bowed and said, "I'll tell him that, my prince."

To Aang, the prince said, "Don't come back. Azula won't be as generous as I am."

Aang nodded and bowed. And the guards came to take us away.

Another airship. Another three-day journey to Ba Sing Se. The Imperial firebenders didn't speak to us. We were given three meals a day in silence. Plain soldier rations. I traded some of my rice for Aang's meat.

"I'm going to try meditating," he said on the first night. I wanted to say, _Don't leave me alone_, but I couldn't form the words. So I watched while he assumed a lotus position and breathed.

Around midnight, his tattoos began to glow. My throat closed up, and I wanted to pound at the door of our sparse quarters and beg to be released. But I swallowed the fear, just as my grandmother taught me, and tried to concentrate the smooth, familiar knife in my hand. But my hands were clumsy, and the blade slipped.

It had been years since I had cut myself. I stared at the thin red line that appeared in the palm of my hand. It stung, but not unbearably. It was shallow. Hardly anything at all.

I didn't realise I was crying until a tear rolled off the end of my nose and landed in my hand, mingling with the blood.

I hadn't cried since I was a child. And it _hurt_. My chest ached, and my head, and I could hardly swallow.

And I couldn't stop.

Eventually Aang came back from - wherever he was - and found me curled in a foetal position on my bunk, weeping silently into a thin blanket.

He sat down next to me and awkwardly patted my shoulder.

"Yeah," he said. "I know."

I shifted, putting my head on his knee. I still couldn't stop crying, but he didn't say anything else. No empty platitudes. No begging me to be calm or quiet. Just peace.

I was still teary when we arrived at Ba Sing Se, although I'd managed to eat a little, and drink some tea. The Fire Nation war balloon landed outside the outer wall. There were soldiers waiting for us, watching the Imperial firebenders with unfriendly faces as they escorted us down the ramp, but most of my attention was taken up with the group of people waiting at the bottom.

I needed to apologise to Iroh for what I'd said before I left, but my throat was raw and I could barely speak. I got as far as a croaked, "I-" before he spread his arms and welcomed me back.

I started to cry again. I was getting used to it.

Iroh took me back to his apartment and gave me tea. He didn't ask what had happened in the Fire Nation, and I wasn't ready to tell him. The memory was strange, and I couldn't make myself dwell on it too long.

Instead, we talked about Zuko. Or rather, he talked. I cried. Finally he gave me a cup of something soporific, and carried me to my room.

The last thing I remembered before I passed out was saying, "Iroh?"

"Yes?"

"You told Azula we were coming."

"Yes." He squeezed my hand. "I've lost my son and my nephew. I couldn't bear the thought of losing you and Aang as well."

"Did you think she'd kill us?"

"I was afraid of that, yes. But I was also afraid you might win."

I fell asleep.


	18. Chapter 18

**Azula**

It was late afternoon when I woke up. I was in my body, in my bed. The baby was kicking.

I was … myself.

I sat up, pushing away the physicians as they fussed around me.

"Fire Lord," said the Chief Sage, bowing very low. "I must-"

"Fetch my husband," I told him.

I was dressing when he arrived, and for a second we just looked at each other. Reassessing. There was no visible trace of the Sun Spirit's touch on him, but I could almost taste the echo of the spirit's presence.

"You've been catatonic for four days," Chan Li said as I brushed my hair.

"Is that how it looked?" My hand faltered. He took the brush from my hand and continued the job himself. "I was with the spirit," I told him.

"I know. I guessed." He pushed my hair aside to press a kiss to the back of my neck. "But I didn't know if you'd come back."

"Of course." I watched him place the royal headpiece in my hair, and studied my reflection in the mirror. I, too, seemed unchanged on the outside. It was within that I was different. The heat of the sun pulsed through my veins. Daughter of fire. _Dragon-heart_.

I led Chan Li outside. Overhead, the sky was streaked with orange and pink as the sun set.

"The original Fire Lords were the Chief Sages," I told him. "Eventually the two branches separated. My ancestors concerned themselves with earthly politics. The Fire Sages became irrelevant and pathetic."

We made our way towards the practice grounds.

"I'm going to change that," I said. "Starting tonight, the Fire Sages will serve me, and I will serve the Fire Nation."

"They won't like that."

"I am the daughter of the Fire Spirit," I told him, "destined to restore the honour of the Fire Nation and undo the damage of the last three generations." Heat pulsed through my veins. And better, certainty, the kind of confidence I had lost in the last year. "And anyone who stands in my way will die."

Chan Li bowed before me.

"My lord," he said.

For the first time in what felt like years, I smiled.


	19. Chapter 19

**The Spirit World**

"What have you done?" demanded the Moon Spirit.

_What was necessary. _

"Anger won't bring back the dead," said Roku.

"That doesn't make this right," said Yue, and she fled to her own starry domain.

Roku waited for the Avatar.

When he appeared, it was as a humble supplicant. He knelt, heedless of the mud, and said, "I'm sorry."

"You're not the first Avatar to make this mistake," said Roku.

"For some," said Yangchen, "not acting was a greater mistake."

"I gave in to my anger," said Aang. "I told myself I was just being pragmatic."

"When you touched Ozai's spirit," said Kuruk, "he touched yours as well."

"That's an excuse," said Kyoshi, at the same time as Aang said, "No. I wanted a reason to act."

"And now?" Roku asked.

"Yes," said Yangchen, "what do you want now?"

"Peace," said Aang.

"My great-granddaughter has been gifted with a task," said Roku. "Restoring the spiritual balance of the Fire Nation will take a lifetime."

"Decades for the war to be forgotten," said Kyoshi.

"Her son could one day be your ally."

"What she begins," Yangchen promised, "you will have to finish. You, or the Avatar that follows you."

"I understand." Aang hesitated.

"Your friend?" said Kuruk, "the waterbender?"

"I wish I could see her one more time."

Kuruk squeezed Aang's shoulder.

"She's free," he said.

"Let her go," said Yangchen.

"I outlived everyone I ever loved," said Kyoshi. "True love requires you to be open to grief. The Air Nomads taught me that."

"It's not a betrayal," said Roku. "Honour her."

"Live," said Yangchen.


	20. Chapter 20

**Aang**

I opened my eyes.

It was dawn, and Momo was twitching in his sleep. Outside I could hear Appa's quiet snores.

Very quietly I found my glider and slipped upstairs onto the roof. Ba Sing Se was spread out below me, stretching to the horizon in every direction. Even at this time of day I could hear distant movement coming from the Lower Ring.

There was a stiff breeze blowing, still warm despite the lateness of the season. The astronomers were predicting a long summer and a late autumn.

Azula's son would be born at the turn of the season, I realised. Thinking of Azula brought a rush of shame, rage and grief, and I acknowledged it all. Mai was wrong, I realised, hiding everything behind a stone mask. I might go and tell her that later. If I did it while the Jasmine Dragon was busy, she might not throw that many knives.

Azula's son would have been Zuko's nephew. That was a weird thought. But a good one, that a trace of my friend would return to the world.

I'd tell Mai that, too.

The sun was over the eastern wall now, and the wind was picking up. I threw my glider into the air and leaped off the roof to meet it.

I soared up, over the city, out to the walls and beyond.

I wouldn't stay much longer. I wanted to go back to the Northern Water Tribe and learn healing. I wanted to see Kyoshi Island again, and to visit Bumi, and to see how the liberated colonies of the western coast were getting along.

But for now, it was a new day, and I was flying.

_end_

Phoenixes that played here once, so that the place was named for them,

Have abandoned it now to this desolate river;

The paths of Wu Palace are crooked with weeds;

The garments of Qin are ancient dust.

...Like this green horizon halving the Three Peaks,

Like this Island of White Egrets dividing the river,

A cloud has arisen between the Light of Heaven and me,

To hide his city from my melancholy heart.

_On Climbing in Nanjing to the Terrace of Phoenixes,_ Li Bai


End file.
